WAR AND REMEMBRANCE

IN THE GATHERING OF HOPEFUL HEARTS

In the gathering of hopeful hearts
The flame of peace does thrive
A flame whose embers glowed
When my granddad was still alive
The lads and pals in distant lands
To a man did purposely strive
They kept that tiny ember tended
To ensure that it would survive
And many a lad remained forever
To keep the flame of peace alive

ON REMEMBRANCE DAY

On Remembrance Day,
We honour the sacrificial dead
Those dedicated souls who.
Offered their lives in war
And were accepted
They were the loved ones,
Of their generation
They are the pride of ours

REMEMBER THEM WITH COMPASSION

Remember them with compassion
And not with jaundiced eye
Remember them with gratitude
For they went to war to die
Remember them with pride
Their honour we must not deny
Remember it’s because of them
We stand beneath a free blue sky

DAWN PATROL

You would find them
Up where the air was thin
And the cold burnt
The wood and canvas kites
Prowled the skies
Searching the clouds below
For the enemy silhouettes
And when sighted below
To attack from the sun
And deliver their chattering death

AUSCHWITZ

Auschwitz in essence
Was a processing plant
Or perhaps more accurately
A recycling plant,
Recycling an abundant commodity,
i.e. lower forms of life,
Into a revenue stream
By stripping the resaleable parts
Clothing, jewelry, hair, teeth
And burning what was left.
A cold and calculated business
Inhumanity on an industrial scale.
So the next time
You cast yesterdays must have device
Into your recyling bin
Just remember the Germans did that with people

MONUMENT

Each faceless name
In neat regimen
Of stone masons text
Is one of the fallen
Long forgotten names
Cut deep into the stone
Marking the sacrifice
Of battles Histories
The cold stone sentinel
A poignant reminder

CENOTAPH

Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warriors past
But not to glorify
There tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost

WAR AND REMEMBERANCE

WAR AND REMEMBERANCE
MONUMENT

Each faceless name
In neat regimen
Of stone masons text
Is one of the fallen
Long forgotten names
Cut deep into the stone
Marking the sacrifice
Of battles Histories
The cold stone sentinel
A poignant reminder

FLT LT RUPERT “TINY” COOLING 1920 - 2010

Time to scramble Tiny
Up into the blue
Up above your ceiling
To once more join your crew

Look lively there Rupert
Fly on, fly on
Up above your ceiling
Rejoin the squadron

CENOTAPH

Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warriors past
But not to glorify
There tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost

THE GOOD OLD WIMPY

Pilots loved to fly
The Vickers Wellington
From take off
To the end of the mission
And the final approach
When the trusty Wellington
Almost landed itself
When you cut ignition
It just let you down
Like a babe on a cushion

ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER CUFFLEY

With the RFC he flew
Over the country that he knew
Defending against the Zeppelin
Flying in the air so thin
Then in 1916 in the dark of night
He attacked an airship in flight
Amidst machine guns chattering sound
He brought the beast to ground
The first of his kind to do the deed
To attack a Zeppelin and succeed
The first Zeppelin kill in British skies
Robinson victorious after many tries

Flt Lt William Leefe Robinson VC
(14 July 1895 – 31 December 1918)

ROYAL FLYING CORPS – WINGS OVER FRANCE # 1

1917 with the RFC he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When his squadron was undone
By Jasta 11, The Red Barons flight
Leaving the British four planes light
Wounded and captured on the floor
That was the end of Robinson’s war

Flt Lt William Leefe Robinson VC
(14 July 1895 – 31 December 1918)

FLT LT WILLIAM LEEFE ROBINSON VC
(14 JULY 1895 – 31 DECEMBER 1918)

Valiantly he fought
Against Zeppelins
And the Red Baron alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Died an ironic death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
But by the Spanish flu

ROYAL NAVAL AIR SERVICE - WINGS OVER GHENT

1915 in the RNAS he flew
When a Zeppelin came into view
In the skies over Ghent
So in hot pursuit he went
Taking heavy machine gun fire
Warneford quickly climbed higher
To take up position over head
Where soon the sky turned red
Where the bombs he dropped
Saw the Zeppelin stopped
Exploding in a ball of fire
Blowing Warneford up higher
Overturning the attacking plane
Stopping its engine,which wouldn’t start again
So he had to land on enemy soil
And in the darkness quickly toil
To restart the engins and get on his way
So he could fight another day

Flt Lt Reginald Alexander John Warneford VC
(15 October 1891 – 17 June 1915)

FLT LT REGINALD ALEXANDER JOHN WARNEFORD VC
(15 OCTOBER 1891 – 17 JUNE 1915)

Valiantly he fought
Against Zeppelins
And the patrols alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Died an ironic death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
But in a flying accident
When the wings folded
On a new kite
During a test flight

ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 2

With the RFC he flew
Over where the ill wind blew
Defending the skies from the Hun
Flying where battle was done
One of Britain’s flying aces
Shooting them down in braces
Flying in the sky so free
His tally numbered 73

Major Edward Corringham "Mick" Mannock VC, DSO & Two Bars, MC & Bar (May 24, 1887 – July 26, 1918)

ROYAL FLYING CORPS – WINGS OVER FRANCE # 3

With the RFC he flew
Over where the ill wind blew
Defending the skies from the Hun
Flying where battle was done
One of Britain’s flying aces
Shooting them down in braces
Flying so close to heaven
His tally numbered 57

Flt Commander James Thomas Byford McCudden VC, DSO & Bar, MC & Bar, MM
(28 March 1895–9 July 1918)

MAJOR EDWARD CORRINGHAM "MICK" MANNOCK VC, DSO & TWO BARS, MC & BAR
(MAY 24, 1887 – JULY 26, 1918)

Valiantly he fought
Against Zeppelins
And the Red Baron alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Died an ironic death
When helping a new arrival
Achieve his first kill
He broke his own golden rule
And followed the stricken foe
To see it crash
And was shot down
By ground fire

Major Edward Corringham "Mick" Mannock VC, DSO & Two Bars, MC & Bar (May 24, 1887 – July 26, 1918)

FLT COMMANDER JAMES THOMAS BYFORD MCCUDDEN VC, DSO & BAR, MC & BAR, MM
(28 MARCH 1895–9 JULY 1918)

Valiantly he fought
Again Zeppelins
And the Red Baron alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Died an ironic death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
But in a flying accident
When the engine failed
While flying a new plane
To his new command

AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR

At the eleventh hour
Silence falls
Heads bow in reverence
Reflecting remembrance
Ordinary people
Stop to show respect
For those who fell

At the eleventh hour
A small group
Of Muslim youth
Chant descent
And wave banners high
“British soldier’s burn in hell”
And this small disrespectful group
Of Muslim youth
Burn poppies in the street
Desecrating that symbol
Of solemnity
And remembrance
Burning the poppies
In symbolic disrespect

Spitting on the dead,
Urinating on their graves
Or defecating on the cenotaph
Would be a less abhorrent act
By that small ignorant group
Of Muslim youth
The poppy does not discriminate
It doesn’t just represent
The white race
The Christian faith
European culture
It represents so much more
Every race
Every faith
From every continent

At the eleventh hour
That small group
Of Muslim youth
Who burnt the poppies
Disgraced themselves
And disgraced the memory
Of every Muslim soldier
Who fell on battlefields
Across the world

CRIMSON SNOW

Each November
We remember
At the Royal Albert Hall
And we remember

With dignity
With respect
They stand in silence
And we remember

In silence
Petals fall
Like crimson snow flakes
And we remember

Gently falling
They settle
Upon hat and tunic
And we remember

Each petal
Once a life
Floats in silent homage
And we remember

Red poppies
Springing eternally
From the bloodied fields
And we remember

Falling petals
Falling in millions
To recall the fallen
And we remember

I REMEMBER

I remember
Those with no future, But only a gallant past
I remember
Those who never lived, To enjoy the fruits of their sacrifice
I remember
Those who will be forever young, Those who will never be old
I remember
When the sun sets on their past, And rises brilliantly for our future
I remember
Father’s, sons and brothers, Husband’s, friends and lovers
I remember
That lost generation of men, Who went to war for our tomorrow
I remember
Poor man, gentleman and scholar, Who stood shoulder to shoulder
I remember
Those who fell before the foe, For a future they wouldn’t know