The speaker is deeply suspicious of anyone who claims war can bring peace. The title, "Bombing for peace," sets up the contradiction, and the short lines that follow cut through it. The speaker "smells ugly money" lurking behind the killing, as if profit sits quietly on the far side of every death. Those who promise security are doing something strange: they "secure a cave made by hand," which suggests a shelter people have built for themselves, small, primitive, and hardly safe. The image hints that this kind of safety takes us backward rather than forward.
The last couplet delivers the verdict. War is "like wind in a paper country," a business that tears through something flimsy. Nothing in that country can stand up to it. The tone is bitter, dry, and unimpressed, with no shouting at all. The speaker simply states what they see, and the plain, clipped phrasing makes the accusation feel colder and more convincing. The mood is one of weary distrust.