My Old Man served in the 14th Army in Burma during World War II. We never got on, though we managed a truce during his last, invalid, years.
He was no militarist, but he retained a spirit of comradeship with his fellow conscripts of "the Forgotten Army". At his funeral his coffin was carried by Burma campaign veterans and was draped with the banner of the Burma Star Association.
So here's one for the old sweats of the 14th Army, the quick and the dead.

14th ARMY
(Steven Bracher)

Men say the echoes the gun-fire woke
Round Palu peaks and Pegu sleep once more
And by the weary Irrawaddy shore
Only the fisherman sends up his smoke,
Far-seen and lonely on the silent stream
Where death was once the substance, life the dream.

The stir and rumour of ten thousand men
Moved in those forests once, and shook the leaves, Sudden and secret, as the hot wind breathes
Tossing the jungle, and is still again.
Silence has taken all, the runways fade,
The jungle marches where our camps were made.

_ _ _

Beneath the monsoon cloud-wrack and the rain
The steaming valleys of the Kabaw sleep,
And all the jungles of the Chindwin keep
Their savage silence rendered back again.