Below is one of the contest entries.
Beneath the foliage of the olive trees Where fall still the withered dying leaves Like the righteous ones returning to their blissful sleep, But three score and ten years on that blessed field ago, Did fall the brave and fearless youth; Withered and dying, bullet-ridden, shelled and battered. Where a silent breeze keeps the prevailing peace And a slumbering ambience rests o'er the fallen leaves, Vulgar shouts were echoed with reckless abandon, And gunshots drowned and silenced the screaming battalion, All on that field of terror, of gore and of woe, Till there they lay on the blood-soaked earth, Bleeding still and dying
— Jesse Johnson
All Poems Submitted to the Contest