Band of Brothers

a poem by tobias kerins, UK

Treading paths of glory, achieving one's aim
Brushing shoulders with the stars, perhaps achieve fame
Become known by many, and maybe adored
Receive much attention, from those who applaud

Mission was clear, to pastures so cold
Plan was revealed, and neatly unrolled
Team was assembled, must pick the best men
Timing essential, knowing to go when

Many miles were covered, upon the high seas
As their chance for success, they wanted to seize
Dreams coming true, with destiny cavort
And then after weeks, arrive Indian port

Equipment assembled, and raring to go
The seeds were cast, and ready to sow
Step by step, and breath by breath
Unknown to them, closer to death

A photo of his wife, in his wallet was kept
Always on mind, even when slept
A deal was a deal, and when the challenge was complete
The top of the world, the wife would greet

Base camp was made, followed by others
They worked as a team, a band of brothers
Step by step, before days ran to nights
They strove and fought, to scale new heights

There was no warning, the avalanche came
The dangerous part, of a climber's game
Buried beneath, of snow great mass
Death in the eyes, a sight so crass

Clambering out, to the surface they lay
The avalanche had, the final say
Sherpa was dead, and heads hung low
And all because, of the dreaded snow

But they came again, and again they tried
Not to be beaten, they had much pride
Again camps had risen, and heights did scale
At all costs, they would prevail

After grueling days, with the summit in sight
Filled with joy, or pressed with fright
They pursued their dream, it was their calling
Unforeseen, was the fatal falling

For seventy-five years, the bodies lay undiscovered
Could not locate, in mystery smothered
Until such time, as one was found
Buried and frozen, in snow on the ground

From the body they found, with the collar upturned
From the name inside, the owner they learned
It was George Mallory, dead and cold
Would his wallet reveal, and the mystery unfold

No photo was found, of his beloved called Ruth
So was he first, this could be the proof
But at the summit equally, no photo was found
Legend or myth, most shaky ground

His climbing partner, has not been located
A fact that his family, have so much hated
Sandy Irvine was his name, a Birkenhead lad
A story unanswered, an ending so sad

To this day, we cannot be sure
As to who reached Earth's roof, or of Heaven the floor
Was he the leader, and was he the best
Was George Mallory the first, to conquer Everest

On the story told, will you be able to decide
If George Mallory, has history defied
Because if he was first, and if it can be proved
Then another name, will have to be removed

The conquering of Everest, of this world the ceiling
Whoever was first, oh what a feeling
Was it Mallory and Irvine, or Hillary and Sherpa Norgay
Who reached the summit first, and had the final say

The Mist
The Maltese Falcon Vol IX
Land on British Sand

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