Basic Info

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

In No Man’s Land SONG

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

Peace?

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

Have happened

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.