His Master’s Voice has gone

Dogs do not understand goodbye

He watches waits and grieves

Why do the women cry?

A War Dog has a focus

Love dictates the choice

The wailing shells surround him.

His world, His Master’s Voice

He did not care to understand

Why humans kill or play

Be it German, French or English

His Master’s Voice his day

Evading deadly Allied Bullets

On German Voice command

A precious load strapped to his back

He skims the mire of No Man’s Land

Blue runs with army orders now

There are no sheep or cattle

Blue only hears His Anzac’s Voice

Above the roar of battle

A Red Cross Dog saves lives

Aiding those who still draw breath

The Stretcher Bearer’s Voice

Braves the screaming stench of death

Flanders fields are still blood red

Killing is still glorified

Men and dogs are still at war

Will we ever turn the tide?