Hello there! My name is Sara Curfs, I’m a teenage writer who reads her poetry about the Second World War (all written by myself) in English. I do so in the uniform of a nurse during this time, or, when asked to, in a different attire (1940’s civilian for example).
You can hire me to read at your events. Please message me through the email in contacts and let me know the details!
Here are some pictures to show what I do and how I look. PHOTOGRAPHS BY NICK GEERLING
Martin Krewinkel, a man in my re-enactment group and to be fair, a true sweetheart and a gem in every way, messaged me one day if it would be alright with me if he used one of my poems for a song.
Of course I said yes.
Time went by, and after a month or so, he messaged me again, now with the complete song of one of my poems. He loves music and loves writing and singing, yet all the same he loved my poetry and combined the two to something so sweet and heartwarming.
I listened the song for a good few days non-stop until everyone at home grew tired of me and I was forced to wear headphones, haha. None the less, it truly warms my heart and I personally really like the song, hope you all do too!
Credits go to Martin Krewinkel for the amazing song!
Here are the original poem:
There he lay, In crimson bathing, His lifeless eyes, Stargazing His useless body, Laying still, No more breaths, For his lungs to fill No more days, Yet to come, No more watching The rising sun
There he sat, With bloody hands, Mourning, For his fallen friends, His lips shut, No words to say, No call to utter, Or God to pray, With anger filled, He grabbed a gun, And fired, At that rising sun
And so, Night took over day, Yet close, Death would always stay, He sat silently, In No Man’s Land, With a message, For Heaven to send, Of grief, sadness, And the beautiful dead, A message which is nothing more, Than sad
He looked at what was left of the war No Man’s Land silent at last Feeling guilty of the clothes he wore There was just one thing he asked
He asked God up in the sky Just for five minutes or less, “Protect me so I don’t die, Still wearing my army dress.”
Some parties they agreed Not to fire a single round Another dead, there was no need For even more bodies in the ground
Other soldiers they did not Believe that war was gone Their firearm still burning hot To death they were drawn
Few didn’t keep in mind On their muddy watch, still going 11 o’clock is to be defined As peace for the unknowing
Seconds before the church bell yells That peace has finally been ensured A dozen stories no one will tell Of wounds that will never be cured
Written down on marble white At 5 AM Germany will write Peace, between the nations The roaring twenties crumbling foundations
And 6 hours later The man on the field are told War’s very own violator Has finally been controlled.
But in that time too many will fall Because of a last whistle being blown Over No Man’s Land they crawl For the didn’t know
This poem was based on the short film called END OF WAR- the final minutes of WWI. The “peace” was signed at 5AM, but the soldier didn’t know until 11AM, or couldn’t act on it until that time at least.