ONCE IN AN AGE OF INNOCENCE
Once in an age of innocence
When the maids were chaste
The body was a temple of love
On which great value was placed
Now the age of innocence is dead
Virtue is sacrificed in haste
Bodies are desecrated at will
And displayed without disgrace
THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT BRIGIT
The feast day of Saint Brigit
Is an Irish National Day
When the Irish people
Celebrate Saint Brigit's Day
ONE SECRET TO A HAPPY LIFE # 1
One secret to a happy life
Is this, more or less
Take every opportunity to
Mind your own business.
HE WANDERED THE STREETS
He wandered the streets
Clothed in tattered rags
And shod in scruffy boots
That didn’t keep out the rain
So he turned to crime
To fill his hollow belly
And then Victorian justice
Clothed him in a ball and chain
FRIENDSHIP TIP
Don’t let a little dispute
Injure a great friendship
Swallow your pride
And quickly make up
THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT ANDREW
The feast day of Saint Andrew
Is Scotland’s National Day
When the Scottish people
Celebrate Saint Andrew's Day
ONE SECRET TO A HAPPY LIFE # 2
One secret to a happy life
Is this and nothing more
Once a year, go somewhere
You’ve never been before.
THE PAINTER AND HIS MODEL
The painter and his model
Were smitten from the very start
And every stroke of his brush
Said “I love you with all my art”
NOT EVEN GOD
Their arrogant confidence
Was unshrinkable
In fact they considered it
To be unthinkable
For the RMS Titanic
Not to be unsinkable
THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT DAVID
The feast day of Saint David
Is Wales’s National Day
When the Welsh people
Celebrate Saint David's Day
ONE SECRET TO A HAPPY LIFE # 3
One secret to a happy life
Is simply this in my view
If you make a lot of money,
And good fortune smiles on you
Use it to use help others
That is wealth's true value
AN ARTIST SHOULD BE ADMIRED
An artist should be admired
Treasured and inspired
And encouraged to create
Art to which we can relate
AFTER SIX LONG YEARS OF BATTLE
After six long years of battle,
Triumph came to the side of light
When the scourge of hostility ended
And Victory in Europe Day began
With joyous revelling and dancing
A new life for the country began
Then as Victory night passed,
And daylight broke through,
The peace dawned anew
THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT COLUMBA
The feast day of Saint Columba
Is an Irish National Day
When the Irish people
Celebrate Saint Columba's Day
LIEUTENANT GENERAL SIR LESLIE JAMES MORSHEAD KCB, KBE, CMG, DSO, ED (18 September 1889 – 26 September 1959)
Australian schoolmaster
Of Cornish stock
Turned reluctant soldier to be
A veteran of the Great War,
Galipoli, Messines, Passchendaele,
Villers-Bretonneux, and Amiens.
After the armistice he was
A peace time businessman
Remaining active in part-time Militia.
Until the Second World War,
When he led the Australian and British troops
At the Siege of Tobruk
And at the Second Battle of El Alamein,
Achieving decisive victories
Over Rommel's Afrika Korps
A strict and demanding officer,
His soldiers affectionately nicknamed him
“Ming the Merciless”,
Later simply “Ming”
After Flash Gordon’s nemesis
He was a remarkable leader
When ordered to hold Tobruk
For 8 weeks and held for 7 months
And it is widely regarded to be the point
That Britain won the war
THE FEAST DAY OF SAINT GEORGE
The feast day of Saint George
Is England’s National Day
When the English people
Celebrate Saint George's Day
ONE OF THE KEYS TO THE SONG OF LIFE
One of the keys to the song of life
Is one of the simple things that please
Such as saying “bless you”
When you hear someone sneeze
WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES IN LIFE
We all make mistakes in life
But the first step is to admit it
When you realize you've made one
Take immediate steps to correct it
LIVE A FULL AND SATISFYING LIFE
Live a full and satisfying life
Make your mark and don’t regret it
But measure your success by what
You had to give up in order to get it
Showing posts with label World War 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War 1. Show all posts
Wednesday 2 August 2017
Monday 2 March 2015
All This And World War Too
PUT DOWN YOUR PEN
Put down your pen, write no more
Names on the honour roll
The count id done, praise God
Listen well as the peace bells toll
At last the bloodshed is at an end
Let’s lose no more friends or foes
HUMPH
On Victory in Europe Day
On the eighth of May 1945
Amidst the happy throng
Outside Buck House
He was joyfully playing
“Roll out the Barrel”
On his trumpet
Whilst being perambulated
In a wheelbarrow
And that was how
Lt Humphrey Lyttelton
Inadvertently gave his
First ever performance
On the BBC
Which survives to this day
On the BBC news reels
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - ODETTE SANSOM HALLOWES GC, MBE
She was French born
But served as an agent for the SOE
In April 1943 “Lise”
Was betrayed to the Germans
Along with her future husband
Peter Churchill
And The SD interrogated them at
84 Avenue Foch, their HQ in Paris
Though tortured with red hot pokers
They kept to their cover story
That he was both her husband
And Winston Churchill’s nephew
Which seemed to do the trick
With confirmation from London
But she was condemned to death in June 1943
But was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
The Churchill’s nephew story stuck
And when the allies got close
The Camp commandant Fritz Suhren
Drove Sansom to the allied lines
To surrender to the Americans
Hoping to save his own neck
Which didn’t work
Odette testified in 1946
At the Hamburg Ravensbrück Trials
And he was hanged in 1950
Odette was subsequently awarded
A British George Cross, an MBE and
A French Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur
THANK GOD FOR LITTLE BELGIUM
Thank God for little Belgium
Bravely holding off the Hun
Mounting a strong defence
So no easy victory was won
Gaining time for their allies
And maddening the Hun
A high price had to be paid
By Belgian mother and son
It was called the rape of Belgium
When the fighting was done
LT HUMPHREY LYTTELTON OF THE BRIGADE OF GUARDS
When he landed on the beach at Salerno
The unsuspecting enemy were met
By a signals officer, with a pistol
In one hand and in the other his trumpet
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - NOOR INAYAT KHAN GC
She was Russian born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In October 1943 “Madelaine”
Was betrayed to the Germans
And the SD Interrogated her at
84 Avenue Foch
Their HQ in Paris
Though she had the face of an angel
She fought her captors so fiercely
They were scared of her,
And treated her as extremely dangerous
After many escape attempts
She was transferred to Germany
After almost a year in captivity
She was taken to Dachau
Along with three other agents
And in the early morning hours
Of 13th September 1944,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
As far as the British were concerned
She was only missing
And she was mentioned in despatches
It wasn’t until 1949
When she was posthumously awarded
A British George Cross and
A French Croix de Guerre with Silver Star.
OLD SOLDIERS WEARIED WITH AGE
Old soldiers wearied with age
Marching with faltering stride
Carry themselves with dignity
And wear the uniform with pride
AFTER WAR WAS DECLARED
The bombing began
Cities were struck
With vengeance
Night after night
Shattering explosions of death
Shaking the ground
Delivering deadly destruction
Buildings fell to the ground.
Stones and bricks
Turned to shrapnel
As architecture was rent asunder
Death meted out indiscriminately
On the innocents
The mighty Luftwaffe
Had declared war on civilians
Theatres and churches
Schools and homes
Pubs and shops
All fell victim
Little was spared
In those terrible raids
Many British Cities
Still bear the scars
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - DENISE MADELEINE BLOCH
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In June 1944 “Ambroise”
She was captured by the Germans
After lengthy interrogation
She was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And in the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A Kings Commendation for Brave Conduct
And a French Croix de Guerre with bronze star
A French Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur
And the Médaille de la Résistance
DESPERATE YEARS WHEN DAYS WERE DARK
Desperate years when days were dark
Some darker when sirens were sounding
When the scared fled to their shelters
While their Cities took a pounding
THE WHISTLES BLEW
The whistles blew
And over the top
Went the company
Moving as one
Through the smoke
And strewn before us
Broken and bloody
In the Flanders mud
Lay the fallen,
Comrades all
Lifeless and cold
But on we walked
Each of us knowing
We might join them soon
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - LILIAN VERA ROLFE MBE
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In July 1944 “Nadine”
She was captured by the Germans
And transported to Fresnes Prison in Paris,
Where she was interrogated repeatedly
And brutally tortured until August
She was then transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And in the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A French Croix de Guerre with palm, an MBE
And was mentioned her in despatches
ON THE HOME-FRONT
On the home-front
Brave men and women
Gave their all
Granddad was a special
Mum was a WRAC
Her sister was on the land
Great Uncle Bill
Was in the home guard
Uncle Fred was in the ARP
Not everyone did their bit
But the majority rolled up their sleeves
Some did more than others
But everyone was under fire
BLOOD SWEPT LANDS
What a stunning and fitting tribute
Well met at the Bloody Tower
A Poppy Sea, marking the toll
Levied at the eleventh hour
Ceramic Poppies, flower and stem
Placed so we will remember them
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - VIOLETTE REINE ELIZABETH SZABO, GC
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In June 1944 while on a mission
She was captured by the Germans
And the SD Interrogated her at Limoges
Then transferred her to 84 Avenue Foch
Their HQ in Paris
But with the Allies closing in
She was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And In the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A British George Cross and
A French Croix de Guerre with bronze star
And the Médaille de la Résistance
HAVING WON THE WAR
Having won the war we struggled in peace
We lived those post war days austerely
But truly believed it was for the best
Despite feeling the rationing severely
But out children charged on into the sixties
And lived the decade too cavalierly
Put down your pen, write no more
Names on the honour roll
The count id done, praise God
Listen well as the peace bells toll
At last the bloodshed is at an end
Let’s lose no more friends or foes
HUMPH
On Victory in Europe Day
On the eighth of May 1945
Amidst the happy throng
Outside Buck House
He was joyfully playing
“Roll out the Barrel”
On his trumpet
Whilst being perambulated
In a wheelbarrow
And that was how
Lt Humphrey Lyttelton
Inadvertently gave his
First ever performance
On the BBC
Which survives to this day
On the BBC news reels
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - ODETTE SANSOM HALLOWES GC, MBE
She was French born
But served as an agent for the SOE
In April 1943 “Lise”
Was betrayed to the Germans
Along with her future husband
Peter Churchill
And The SD interrogated them at
84 Avenue Foch, their HQ in Paris
Though tortured with red hot pokers
They kept to their cover story
That he was both her husband
And Winston Churchill’s nephew
Which seemed to do the trick
With confirmation from London
But she was condemned to death in June 1943
But was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
The Churchill’s nephew story stuck
And when the allies got close
The Camp commandant Fritz Suhren
Drove Sansom to the allied lines
To surrender to the Americans
Hoping to save his own neck
Which didn’t work
Odette testified in 1946
At the Hamburg Ravensbrück Trials
And he was hanged in 1950
Odette was subsequently awarded
A British George Cross, an MBE and
A French Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur
THANK GOD FOR LITTLE BELGIUM
Thank God for little Belgium
Bravely holding off the Hun
Mounting a strong defence
So no easy victory was won
Gaining time for their allies
And maddening the Hun
A high price had to be paid
By Belgian mother and son
It was called the rape of Belgium
When the fighting was done
LT HUMPHREY LYTTELTON OF THE BRIGADE OF GUARDS
When he landed on the beach at Salerno
The unsuspecting enemy were met
By a signals officer, with a pistol
In one hand and in the other his trumpet
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - NOOR INAYAT KHAN GC
She was Russian born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In October 1943 “Madelaine”
Was betrayed to the Germans
And the SD Interrogated her at
84 Avenue Foch
Their HQ in Paris
Though she had the face of an angel
She fought her captors so fiercely
They were scared of her,
And treated her as extremely dangerous
After many escape attempts
She was transferred to Germany
After almost a year in captivity
She was taken to Dachau
Along with three other agents
And in the early morning hours
Of 13th September 1944,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
As far as the British were concerned
She was only missing
And she was mentioned in despatches
It wasn’t until 1949
When she was posthumously awarded
A British George Cross and
A French Croix de Guerre with Silver Star.
OLD SOLDIERS WEARIED WITH AGE
Old soldiers wearied with age
Marching with faltering stride
Carry themselves with dignity
And wear the uniform with pride
AFTER WAR WAS DECLARED
The bombing began
Cities were struck
With vengeance
Night after night
Shattering explosions of death
Shaking the ground
Delivering deadly destruction
Buildings fell to the ground.
Stones and bricks
Turned to shrapnel
As architecture was rent asunder
Death meted out indiscriminately
On the innocents
The mighty Luftwaffe
Had declared war on civilians
Theatres and churches
Schools and homes
Pubs and shops
All fell victim
Little was spared
In those terrible raids
Many British Cities
Still bear the scars
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - DENISE MADELEINE BLOCH
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In June 1944 “Ambroise”
She was captured by the Germans
After lengthy interrogation
She was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And in the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A Kings Commendation for Brave Conduct
And a French Croix de Guerre with bronze star
A French Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur
And the Médaille de la Résistance
DESPERATE YEARS WHEN DAYS WERE DARK
Desperate years when days were dark
Some darker when sirens were sounding
When the scared fled to their shelters
While their Cities took a pounding
THE WHISTLES BLEW
The whistles blew
And over the top
Went the company
Moving as one
Through the smoke
And strewn before us
Broken and bloody
In the Flanders mud
Lay the fallen,
Comrades all
Lifeless and cold
But on we walked
Each of us knowing
We might join them soon
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - LILIAN VERA ROLFE MBE
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In July 1944 “Nadine”
She was captured by the Germans
And transported to Fresnes Prison in Paris,
Where she was interrogated repeatedly
And brutally tortured until August
She was then transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And in the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A French Croix de Guerre with palm, an MBE
And was mentioned her in despatches
ON THE HOME-FRONT
On the home-front
Brave men and women
Gave their all
Granddad was a special
Mum was a WRAC
Her sister was on the land
Great Uncle Bill
Was in the home guard
Uncle Fred was in the ARP
Not everyone did their bit
But the majority rolled up their sleeves
Some did more than others
But everyone was under fire
BLOOD SWEPT LANDS
What a stunning and fitting tribute
Well met at the Bloody Tower
A Poppy Sea, marking the toll
Levied at the eleventh hour
Ceramic Poppies, flower and stem
Placed so we will remember them
HEROINES OF THE SPECIAL OPERATIONS EXECUTIVE - VIOLETTE REINE ELIZABETH SZABO, GC
She was French born
But died as an agent for the SOE
In June 1944 while on a mission
She was captured by the Germans
And the SD Interrogated her at Limoges
Then transferred her to 84 Avenue Foch
Their HQ in Paris
But with the Allies closing in
She was transferred to Germany
To be imprisoned at Ravensbrück
Along with two other agents
And In the early morning hours
In February 1945,
They were shot in the back of the head
Their bodies then immediately
Burned in the crematorium.
She was posthumously awarded
A British George Cross and
A French Croix de Guerre with bronze star
And the Médaille de la Résistance
HAVING WON THE WAR
Having won the war we struggled in peace
We lived those post war days austerely
But truly believed it was for the best
Despite feeling the rationing severely
But out children charged on into the sixties
And lived the decade too cavalierly
Thursday 4 September 2014
Facets Of War
THE OLD SOLDIER
I don’t bitch and moan
About growing old
To me it’s a privilege
One which was denied to so many
My fallen pals
And the countless foe
Those who never left
The bloody field
Or succumbed to their wounds
Never to return
To a sweethearts arms
Or to sit beside the home fire
So I bare the pains of age
With stoicism
And thank all that’s holy
For my long life
And the fruits of longevity
And keep the memory
In my heart for all the fallen youth
Until I re-join them
INTO THE LANDING CRAFT
As he climbed
Into the landing craft
He was afraid
But not of death
Or of injury
But of fear itself
A paralysing fear
Rendering him inert
Leaving him unable
To do his duty
But above all else
His greatest fear
Was that he would
Let down his lads
PACIFISM IS A NOBLE IDEAL
Pacifism is a noble ideal
A heartfelt principle
Yet when the foul poison
Of the Nazi doctrines
Leached into the world
An internal struggle began
Was the cause to defeat fascism
Greater than pacifist principles
Many took the position
War was the lesser of two evils
But not a decision taken lightly
I don’t bitch and moan
About growing old
To me it’s a privilege
One which was denied to so many
My fallen pals
And the countless foe
Those who never left
The bloody field
Or succumbed to their wounds
Never to return
To a sweethearts arms
Or to sit beside the home fire
So I bare the pains of age
With stoicism
And thank all that’s holy
For my long life
And the fruits of longevity
And keep the memory
In my heart for all the fallen youth
Until I re-join them
INTO THE LANDING CRAFT
As he climbed
Into the landing craft
He was afraid
But not of death
Or of injury
But of fear itself
A paralysing fear
Rendering him inert
Leaving him unable
To do his duty
But above all else
His greatest fear
Was that he would
Let down his lads
PACIFISM IS A NOBLE IDEAL
Pacifism is a noble ideal
A heartfelt principle
Yet when the foul poison
Of the Nazi doctrines
Leached into the world
An internal struggle began
Was the cause to defeat fascism
Greater than pacifist principles
Many took the position
War was the lesser of two evils
But not a decision taken lightly
Friday 23 May 2014
A Mixed Bag of Poems
AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR
At the eleventh hour
On the eleventh day
Of the eleventh month
We heard the generals say
You can go home now lads
To the land you’ve defended
Thank God one and all
That the madness has ended
MICHAELMAS DAISY
Lovely Miss Aster,
My flower girl Maisie
My natural beauty
I love her like crazy
My own precious
Michaelmas Daisy
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD
Happy birthday dad
See, we did remember
Because you are so dear
Just like every year
We will never forget
We just wish and wish
You were still here
Just like every year
So we wish you
A happy birthday
And wipe away a tear
Just like every year
Harold Curtis 19/6/1922 – 8/5/1978
DANCING PIXIES IN THE GREEN
Dancing pixies in the green
And sparkling water sprites
Oft heard but never seen
Bathing in the morning light
DEATH IN THE SHADOWS
Death in the shadows
Grim reaper take flight
Don’t let me be the one
You’re coming for tonight
PEBBLES SMOOTH
Pebbles smooth,
Like crude glass
Smoothed by nature
Time and tide
Its patterned form
Marbled in style
Sits comfortably
In the fingers
To be skimmed
Back to the ocean
I HEAR A SINGING CHILD
I hear a singing child
Innocently engrossed
In childish play
Singing sweetly
To her audience of dolls
Safely oblivious
In her enchanted world
Would that it could
Always be that way
DEAR OSCAR
He was witty
Blessed with a fine mind
A bel esprit
And was the clever kind
MICHAELMAS DAY
Feast of the Archangels
As the autumn equinox nears
Michaelmas marks the turning
Of the husbandman's year
29th September
THE SCULPTOR CREATES
The sculptor creates
With skilful hands
The beauteous article
An artistic gift
Its concept borrowed
From his dreams
And his subconscious mind
To infuse in his design
And create a work of art
DREDGING IS NO SILVER BULLET
Dredging is no silver bullet
Is the word coming from their ranks
But at least it would be something
To prevent rivers bursting their banks
While the environment agency
Just blindly keep on firing blanks
SLAVERY WAS BORN OF EMPIRE
Slavery was born of Empire
But not a European one
Slavery existed for centuries
In fact thousands of years
Way before Europe rose to the fore
Even the Romans came late to the party
Following in Greece’s footsteps
Peoples were enslaved
From around the globe
Where there were trade routes
There was slaving
Arabs traded slaves bought
From African tribesmen
Muslims enslaved slavs
Turks enslaved Ukrainians
Mongols reached into the heart of Europe
And took slaves by the thousand
White Europeans became involved
Black enslaved black
White has enslaved white
I don’t know if it will ever end
I certainly hope so
But what I do know is
That the British didn’t invent it
ORIGINAL FAIRY TALES
Original Fairy Tales
Were not devised
To scare children
And inform them
That monsters existed
Children already knew
There were monsters
What Fairy Tales did
Was to teach children
That monsters
Could be beaten
NAZISM WAS LIKE A CANCER
Nazism was like a cancer
Spread across the continent
And when Hitler was defeated
It was not a cure, for the cancer
Was merely in remission
At the eleventh hour
On the eleventh day
Of the eleventh month
We heard the generals say
You can go home now lads
To the land you’ve defended
Thank God one and all
That the madness has ended
MICHAELMAS DAISY
Lovely Miss Aster,
My flower girl Maisie
My natural beauty
I love her like crazy
My own precious
Michaelmas Daisy
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD
Happy birthday dad
See, we did remember
Because you are so dear
Just like every year
We will never forget
We just wish and wish
You were still here
Just like every year
So we wish you
A happy birthday
And wipe away a tear
Just like every year
Harold Curtis 19/6/1922 – 8/5/1978
DANCING PIXIES IN THE GREEN
Dancing pixies in the green
And sparkling water sprites
Oft heard but never seen
Bathing in the morning light
DEATH IN THE SHADOWS
Death in the shadows
Grim reaper take flight
Don’t let me be the one
You’re coming for tonight
PEBBLES SMOOTH
Pebbles smooth,
Like crude glass
Smoothed by nature
Time and tide
Its patterned form
Marbled in style
Sits comfortably
In the fingers
To be skimmed
Back to the ocean
I HEAR A SINGING CHILD
I hear a singing child
Innocently engrossed
In childish play
Singing sweetly
To her audience of dolls
Safely oblivious
In her enchanted world
Would that it could
Always be that way
DEAR OSCAR
He was witty
Blessed with a fine mind
A bel esprit
And was the clever kind
MICHAELMAS DAY
Feast of the Archangels
As the autumn equinox nears
Michaelmas marks the turning
Of the husbandman's year
29th September
THE SCULPTOR CREATES
The sculptor creates
With skilful hands
The beauteous article
An artistic gift
Its concept borrowed
From his dreams
And his subconscious mind
To infuse in his design
And create a work of art
DREDGING IS NO SILVER BULLET
Dredging is no silver bullet
Is the word coming from their ranks
But at least it would be something
To prevent rivers bursting their banks
While the environment agency
Just blindly keep on firing blanks
SLAVERY WAS BORN OF EMPIRE
Slavery was born of Empire
But not a European one
Slavery existed for centuries
In fact thousands of years
Way before Europe rose to the fore
Even the Romans came late to the party
Following in Greece’s footsteps
Peoples were enslaved
From around the globe
Where there were trade routes
There was slaving
Arabs traded slaves bought
From African tribesmen
Muslims enslaved slavs
Turks enslaved Ukrainians
Mongols reached into the heart of Europe
And took slaves by the thousand
White Europeans became involved
Black enslaved black
White has enslaved white
I don’t know if it will ever end
I certainly hope so
But what I do know is
That the British didn’t invent it
ORIGINAL FAIRY TALES
Original Fairy Tales
Were not devised
To scare children
And inform them
That monsters existed
Children already knew
There were monsters
What Fairy Tales did
Was to teach children
That monsters
Could be beaten
NAZISM WAS LIKE A CANCER
Nazism was like a cancer
Spread across the continent
And when Hitler was defeated
It was not a cure, for the cancer
Was merely in remission
Tuesday 18 March 2014
War ans Warriors
IT’LL BE OVER BY CHRISTMAS
August 4th 1914
The world goes mad
And the Great War Begins
The war to end all wars
“It’ll be over by Christmas”
So they promised
Instead there followed
Four years of death
AIR COMMODORE FERDINAND MAURICE FELIX WEST VC CBE MC
(19 JANUARY 1896 – 8 JULY 1988)
In an Armstrong Whitworth FK 8
West set off at dawn,
Along with his observer,
To search for the enemy
Through a hole in the mist
They spotted their concentration
Avoiding severe ground fire,
Almost immediately
They came under attack
From seven German fighters
West was hit in the leg,
And his radio was destroyed
Skilfully they fought them off
Unable to make home base
West landed behind Allied lines
But despite his injuries
And being in excruciating agony
He insisted on giving his report
Before receiving treatment
And he lost his leg
DON’T PRAY TO YOUR GOD
Don’t pray to your God
When another war begins
Because he doesn’t like war
And he doesn’t care who wins
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 4
With the RFC he flew
Over where the ill wind blew
Defending the skies from the Hun
Flying where battle was done
Hazardous sorties over the front
Avoiding enemies on the hunt
Air Commodore Ferdinand Maurice Felix West VC CBE MC (19 JANUARY 1896 – 8 JULY 1988)
DON’T PRAY TO YOUR GOD
Don’t pray to your God
When another war begins
Because he doesn’t like war
And he doesn’t care who wins
ROYAL NAVAL AIR SERVICE - WINGS OVER THE DARDANELLES
1915 in the RNAS he flew
When Ferrijik Junction came into view
He and Gilbert Smylie were sent
And Into action they both went
Under heavy fire Smylie went down
In marsh land outside of town
He set fire to his stricken machine
And quickly set to flee the Scene
Then davies with skill and Gallantry
Landed in sight of the enemy
Rescued his comrade Smylie
And returned him to safety
Vice Admiral Richard Bell Davies VC CB DSO AFC (19 May 1886 – 26 February 1966)
THE SOLDIER STOOD
The soldier stood
And faced the grave
Before the dawn
To salute the brave
VICE ADMIRAL RICHARD BELL DAVIES VC CB DSO AFC
(19 MAY 1886 – 26 FEBRUARY 1966)
Valiantly he fought
Against Germans
And the Turks alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Diced with death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
He fought with gallantry
And abject bravery
THE WORLD HAS BECOME A BLEAKER PLACE
The world has become a bleaker place
And it will never be a safe world again
Death can be delivered unseen from above
I wish I could uninvent the Aeroplane
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 5
Valiantly he fought
Against Balloons
And the patrols alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Fought against
Superior numbers
Above the Forêt de Mormal
Despite horrific injuries
He won the day
And landed safely
Lt Colonel William George "Billy" Barker VC, DSO & Bar, MC & Two Bars (3 November 1894 – 12 March 1930)
LT COLONEL WILLIAM GEORGE "BILLY" BARKER VC, DSO & BAR, MC & TWO BARS
(3 NOVEMBER 1894 – 12 MARCH 1930)
1918 with the RFC he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When he was nearly undone
Above the Forêt de Mormal
15 against one mere mortal
Barkers Snipe downed three
But he was wounded severely
He got the Snipe down on the floor
But it was the end of Barkers war
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 6
Valiantly he fought
Against kite balloons
And the patrols alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
In two short months
In 1918
He wreaked havoc
On the enemy
He died in 1921
In an ironic death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
But in a training accident
Flying a Sopwith Snipe
Preparing for an air show
At RAF Hendon
Captain Andrew (Anthony) Frederick Weatherby Beauchamp-Proctor, VC, DSO, MC and bar, DFC (4 September 1894 – 21 June 1921)
THE WORLD HAS BECOME A BLEAKER PLACE
The world has become a bleaker place
And it will never be a safe world again
Death can be delivered unseen from above
I wish I could uninvent the Aeroplane
CAPTAIN ANDREW (ANTHONY) FREDERICK WEATHERBY BEAUCHAMP-PROCTOR, VC, DSO, MC AND BAR, DFC
(4 SEPTEMBER 1894 – 21 JUNE 1921)
1918 with the RFC he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When victory after victory he won
Between 8 August 1918,
And 8 October 1918
Twenty-six decisive victories
Against determined enemies
Despite suffering a bad injury
He managed to land safely
THE SOLDIER STOOD
The soldier stood
And faced the grave
Before the dawn
To salute the brave
FLEET AIR ARM - WINGS OVER THE CHANNEL
Valiantly he fought
In an outdated kite
Against Battleships
And modern planes alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Fighting Superior forces
He led his squadron
From the front
Attacking the Scharnhorst,
The Gneisenau
And Prinz Eugen
But were all shot
From the skies
Lieutenant Commander Eugene Kingsmill Esmonde VC DSO (1 March 1909 – 12 February 1942)
LORD KITCHENER SAID IN HIS FRUSTRATION
Lord Kitchener said in his frustration
Of the indiscreet Politicians and their lives
When you tell one of their number a secret
They went home and told their wives
With the exception of David Lloyd George
Who went home and told everybody’s wives
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER EUGENE KINGSMILL ESMONDE VC DSO
(1 MARCH 1909 – 12 FEBRUARY 1942)
1942 with the Fleet Air Arm he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When he and his squadron were undone
Against the German Krieg’s Marine
The pride of the German Navy
And against that determined enemy
His squadron fell into the sea
August 4th 1914
The world goes mad
And the Great War Begins
The war to end all wars
“It’ll be over by Christmas”
So they promised
Instead there followed
Four years of death
AIR COMMODORE FERDINAND MAURICE FELIX WEST VC CBE MC
(19 JANUARY 1896 – 8 JULY 1988)
In an Armstrong Whitworth FK 8
West set off at dawn,
Along with his observer,
To search for the enemy
Through a hole in the mist
They spotted their concentration
Avoiding severe ground fire,
Almost immediately
They came under attack
From seven German fighters
West was hit in the leg,
And his radio was destroyed
Skilfully they fought them off
Unable to make home base
West landed behind Allied lines
But despite his injuries
And being in excruciating agony
He insisted on giving his report
Before receiving treatment
And he lost his leg
DON’T PRAY TO YOUR GOD
Don’t pray to your God
When another war begins
Because he doesn’t like war
And he doesn’t care who wins
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 4
With the RFC he flew
Over where the ill wind blew
Defending the skies from the Hun
Flying where battle was done
Hazardous sorties over the front
Avoiding enemies on the hunt
Air Commodore Ferdinand Maurice Felix West VC CBE MC (19 JANUARY 1896 – 8 JULY 1988)
DON’T PRAY TO YOUR GOD
Don’t pray to your God
When another war begins
Because he doesn’t like war
And he doesn’t care who wins
ROYAL NAVAL AIR SERVICE - WINGS OVER THE DARDANELLES
1915 in the RNAS he flew
When Ferrijik Junction came into view
He and Gilbert Smylie were sent
And Into action they both went
Under heavy fire Smylie went down
In marsh land outside of town
He set fire to his stricken machine
And quickly set to flee the Scene
Then davies with skill and Gallantry
Landed in sight of the enemy
Rescued his comrade Smylie
And returned him to safety
Vice Admiral Richard Bell Davies VC CB DSO AFC (19 May 1886 – 26 February 1966)
THE SOLDIER STOOD
The soldier stood
And faced the grave
Before the dawn
To salute the brave
VICE ADMIRAL RICHARD BELL DAVIES VC CB DSO AFC
(19 MAY 1886 – 26 FEBRUARY 1966)
Valiantly he fought
Against Germans
And the Turks alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Diced with death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
He fought with gallantry
And abject bravery
THE WORLD HAS BECOME A BLEAKER PLACE
The world has become a bleaker place
And it will never be a safe world again
Death can be delivered unseen from above
I wish I could uninvent the Aeroplane
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 5
Valiantly he fought
Against Balloons
And the patrols alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Fought against
Superior numbers
Above the Forêt de Mormal
Despite horrific injuries
He won the day
And landed safely
Lt Colonel William George "Billy" Barker VC, DSO & Bar, MC & Two Bars (3 November 1894 – 12 March 1930)
LT COLONEL WILLIAM GEORGE "BILLY" BARKER VC, DSO & BAR, MC & TWO BARS
(3 NOVEMBER 1894 – 12 MARCH 1930)
1918 with the RFC he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When he was nearly undone
Above the Forêt de Mormal
15 against one mere mortal
Barkers Snipe downed three
But he was wounded severely
He got the Snipe down on the floor
But it was the end of Barkers war
ROYAL FLYING CORPS - WINGS OVER FRANCE # 6
Valiantly he fought
Against kite balloons
And the patrols alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
In two short months
In 1918
He wreaked havoc
On the enemy
He died in 1921
In an ironic death
Not taken by the bullet
Or by the bomb
But in a training accident
Flying a Sopwith Snipe
Preparing for an air show
At RAF Hendon
Captain Andrew (Anthony) Frederick Weatherby Beauchamp-Proctor, VC, DSO, MC and bar, DFC (4 September 1894 – 21 June 1921)
THE WORLD HAS BECOME A BLEAKER PLACE
The world has become a bleaker place
And it will never be a safe world again
Death can be delivered unseen from above
I wish I could uninvent the Aeroplane
CAPTAIN ANDREW (ANTHONY) FREDERICK WEATHERBY BEAUCHAMP-PROCTOR, VC, DSO, MC AND BAR, DFC
(4 SEPTEMBER 1894 – 21 JUNE 1921)
1918 with the RFC he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When victory after victory he won
Between 8 August 1918,
And 8 October 1918
Twenty-six decisive victories
Against determined enemies
Despite suffering a bad injury
He managed to land safely
THE SOLDIER STOOD
The soldier stood
And faced the grave
Before the dawn
To salute the brave
FLEET AIR ARM - WINGS OVER THE CHANNEL
Valiantly he fought
In an outdated kite
Against Battleships
And modern planes alike
A young man,
In the prime of life
Fighting Superior forces
He led his squadron
From the front
Attacking the Scharnhorst,
The Gneisenau
And Prinz Eugen
But were all shot
From the skies
Lieutenant Commander Eugene Kingsmill Esmonde VC DSO (1 March 1909 – 12 February 1942)
LORD KITCHENER SAID IN HIS FRUSTRATION
Lord Kitchener said in his frustration
Of the indiscreet Politicians and their lives
When you tell one of their number a secret
They went home and told their wives
With the exception of David Lloyd George
Who went home and told everybody’s wives
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER EUGENE KINGSMILL ESMONDE VC DSO
(1 MARCH 1909 – 12 FEBRUARY 1942)
1942 with the Fleet Air Arm he flew
Leaving behind the land he knew
To fly against the superior Hun
When he and his squadron were undone
Against the German Krieg’s Marine
The pride of the German Navy
And against that determined enemy
His squadron fell into the sea
Monday 4 November 2013
The Winds Of War
BLUE DANUBE
It was called Blue Danube, which
Doesn’t sound menacing at all
So innocuous for the first operational
Weapon in Britain’s nuclear arsenal
HMS IOLAIRE
On New Year’s Eve 1918
The Iolaire carried sailors
Veterans of the Great War
Back home to the island of Lewis
But as they approached Stornoway
As the New Year dawned
She struck "The Beasts of Holm"
And sank in the darkness
205 souls perished in the depths
They survived the horrors of war
Only to drown in the waters of home
RED COATS
The bayonets gleaming
In the sun
The piper’s pipe
The drummers drum
Red Coats forming
Up the square
The sound of battle
Everywhere
Though far outnumbered
In the field
They do not waver
They do not yield
The men
From borough and shire
The thin red line
Of the empire
PAST THE CENOTAPH THEY MARCH
Past the cenotaph they march
After Big Bens doleful chime
The proud veterans on parade
Years beyond their prime
But even with walking sticks
They still keep perfect time
THE FLOWERED FIELDS OF FLANDERS
The flowered fields of Flanders
Where met many a gallant enlistee
War visited its hell upon the earth
Turning them to a muddy bloody sea
SO SILENT WENT THE GUNS OF HELL
So silent went the guns of hell
No longer dispensing shot and shell
So we emerge from where we dwell
In answer to the armistice bell
WHETHER THEY MAY WIN OR LOOSE
Whether they may win or loose
Or whether they think its right
Our soldiers don’t get to choose
Which wars that they fight
THE RED ARMY
The Red Army
Rose from the ashes
Like a phoenix
Rising up from
The brink of defeat
To repel the invader
Pushing the Nazi scourge
Back to Hitler’s backyard
To end one war
And begin another
Colder one
RED BEARD
It was called Red Beard, which
Doesn’t sound menacing at all
So innocuous for the first tactical
Weapon in Britain’s nuclear arsenal
THE RAF SEEK OUT THERE TARGETS
The RAF seek out there targets
On recognisance missions
Brave young men
Flying beyond enemy lines
Armed with nothing more than cameras
They make pass after pass
Taking shot after shot
Before returning home
With their precious load
When the photo interpreters
Of Medmenham
Enhance the images
With their stereoscope’s
To create a 3D picture
For detailed analysis
By the boffins
Who identify a target
For more brave young men
To bomb the sites
Of the vengeance weapons
It was called Blue Danube, which
Doesn’t sound menacing at all
So innocuous for the first operational
Weapon in Britain’s nuclear arsenal
HMS IOLAIRE
On New Year’s Eve 1918
The Iolaire carried sailors
Veterans of the Great War
Back home to the island of Lewis
But as they approached Stornoway
As the New Year dawned
She struck "The Beasts of Holm"
And sank in the darkness
205 souls perished in the depths
They survived the horrors of war
Only to drown in the waters of home
RED COATS
The bayonets gleaming
In the sun
The piper’s pipe
The drummers drum
Red Coats forming
Up the square
The sound of battle
Everywhere
Though far outnumbered
In the field
They do not waver
They do not yield
The men
From borough and shire
The thin red line
Of the empire
PAST THE CENOTAPH THEY MARCH
Past the cenotaph they march
After Big Bens doleful chime
The proud veterans on parade
Years beyond their prime
But even with walking sticks
They still keep perfect time
THE FLOWERED FIELDS OF FLANDERS
The flowered fields of Flanders
Where met many a gallant enlistee
War visited its hell upon the earth
Turning them to a muddy bloody sea
SO SILENT WENT THE GUNS OF HELL
So silent went the guns of hell
No longer dispensing shot and shell
So we emerge from where we dwell
In answer to the armistice bell
WHETHER THEY MAY WIN OR LOOSE
Whether they may win or loose
Or whether they think its right
Our soldiers don’t get to choose
Which wars that they fight
THE RED ARMY
The Red Army
Rose from the ashes
Like a phoenix
Rising up from
The brink of defeat
To repel the invader
Pushing the Nazi scourge
Back to Hitler’s backyard
To end one war
And begin another
Colder one
RED BEARD
It was called Red Beard, which
Doesn’t sound menacing at all
So innocuous for the first tactical
Weapon in Britain’s nuclear arsenal
THE RAF SEEK OUT THERE TARGETS
The RAF seek out there targets
On recognisance missions
Brave young men
Flying beyond enemy lines
Armed with nothing more than cameras
They make pass after pass
Taking shot after shot
Before returning home
With their precious load
When the photo interpreters
Of Medmenham
Enhance the images
With their stereoscope’s
To create a 3D picture
For detailed analysis
By the boffins
Who identify a target
For more brave young men
To bomb the sites
Of the vengeance weapons
Friday 19 July 2013
War
SOLDIERS OF ROME
They died beneath the eagle
On the battlefields Rome
And were blessed after death
To walk in the fields of Elysium
KUBLAI KHAN’S MONGOL HORDE
Kublai Khan’s Mongol horde
Set Sail In 1274
To conquer Japan
And add it to his empire
But the great deity Raijin
Conjured up a typhoon
And his Divine wind
Destroyed the Khan’s fleet
And saved the Japanese
But in 1281
They sailed again
The largest fleet every assembled
Four thousand ships
Carrying 140000 men
But when they were off the shore
Once again Raijin
Brought the Kamikaze
And scattered the fleet
To the four winds
And thwarted Kublai Khan
And he never tried again
THE VIKINGS
Killed in battle, bloody axe in hand
The reward of the Nordic warrior
Was for their souls to spend eternity
Residing in the great hall of Valhalla
IN HALIFAX NOVA SCOTIA 1917
Two ships collided in Halifax harbour,
The Mont Blanc and the Imo,
It was December 1917
And what the Nova Scotian’s didn’t know
Was the French ship was laden with explosives
And as it sailed the straight from the sea
It struck the Norwegian vessel
Causing it to explode cataclysmically
Many Canadians were killed
In Halifax Nova Scotia 1917
After the largest man made explosion
The world had ever seen
DON’T HATE THE HUN ACROSS THE FIELD
Don’t hate the Hun across the field
He’s not so very different to you
He doesn’t want to fight in foreign wars
He wants to be in the loving embrace
Of the sweet woman he loves
As you want to be in the arms of yours
ARE YOU WEARING A POPPY?
Are you wearing a poppy?
Wear it proudly on your lapel
Wear it with pride and respect
So everyone will be able to tell
That you recognise the sacrifice
Of those who fought and fell
WANDERING WARRIOR
Wandering warrior
Migrating hero of the good
Fights for God and king
THE RED ENSIGN
The unsung heroes sail
Under The Red Ensign
The telltale flag flown
By British merchantmen
THE RED DUSTER
The British merchantmen
Fly the “Red Duster”
And you will always see
The red ensign flutter
HMHS GLENART CASTLE
The Glenart Castle
Was steaming home
On a cold February night
In 1918
The hospital ship
Headed for safe haven
Her lights green
Clearly visible
Against the dark horizon
Red lamps lit her side rail
Her masthead light burned bright
Fishermen could see her
Red Cross light
Then a torpedo struct her
In the number the hold
In eight minutes
She was gone
With a 162 souls
They died beneath the eagle
On the battlefields Rome
And were blessed after death
To walk in the fields of Elysium
KUBLAI KHAN’S MONGOL HORDE
Kublai Khan’s Mongol horde
Set Sail In 1274
To conquer Japan
And add it to his empire
But the great deity Raijin
Conjured up a typhoon
And his Divine wind
Destroyed the Khan’s fleet
And saved the Japanese
But in 1281
They sailed again
The largest fleet every assembled
Four thousand ships
Carrying 140000 men
But when they were off the shore
Once again Raijin
Brought the Kamikaze
And scattered the fleet
To the four winds
And thwarted Kublai Khan
And he never tried again
THE VIKINGS
Killed in battle, bloody axe in hand
The reward of the Nordic warrior
Was for their souls to spend eternity
Residing in the great hall of Valhalla
IN HALIFAX NOVA SCOTIA 1917
Two ships collided in Halifax harbour,
The Mont Blanc and the Imo,
It was December 1917
And what the Nova Scotian’s didn’t know
Was the French ship was laden with explosives
And as it sailed the straight from the sea
It struck the Norwegian vessel
Causing it to explode cataclysmically
Many Canadians were killed
In Halifax Nova Scotia 1917
After the largest man made explosion
The world had ever seen
DON’T HATE THE HUN ACROSS THE FIELD
Don’t hate the Hun across the field
He’s not so very different to you
He doesn’t want to fight in foreign wars
He wants to be in the loving embrace
Of the sweet woman he loves
As you want to be in the arms of yours
ARE YOU WEARING A POPPY?
Are you wearing a poppy?
Wear it proudly on your lapel
Wear it with pride and respect
So everyone will be able to tell
That you recognise the sacrifice
Of those who fought and fell
WANDERING WARRIOR
Wandering warrior
Migrating hero of the good
Fights for God and king
THE RED ENSIGN
The unsung heroes sail
Under The Red Ensign
The telltale flag flown
By British merchantmen
THE RED DUSTER
The British merchantmen
Fly the “Red Duster”
And you will always see
The red ensign flutter
HMHS GLENART CASTLE
The Glenart Castle
Was steaming home
On a cold February night
In 1918
The hospital ship
Headed for safe haven
Her lights green
Clearly visible
Against the dark horizon
Red lamps lit her side rail
Her masthead light burned bright
Fishermen could see her
Red Cross light
Then a torpedo struct her
In the number the hold
In eight minutes
She was gone
With a 162 souls
Friday 4 May 2012
NO MANS LAND
No mans land,
A desolate place
An unforgiving place
Where stout hearts
Chill and falter
To glimpse at hell
Doom awaits us there
On that alien field
Where death falls like rain
In shrapnel shards
And bullets speak
Of whispered demise
No mans land,
A desolate place
Where men drown
In mud, blood and tears
Blood shed for country
Tears shed for kin
A desolate place
An unforgiving place
Where stout hearts
Chill and falter
To glimpse at hell
Doom awaits us there
On that alien field
Where death falls like rain
In shrapnel shards
And bullets speak
Of whispered demise
No mans land,
A desolate place
Where men drown
In mud, blood and tears
Blood shed for country
Tears shed for kin
Friday 11 November 2011
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
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
Monday 8 August 2011
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
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
Wednesday 28 April 2010
WAR AND WARRIORS
GRANDDADS WAR
In South Africa during the Boer War
Granddad got the key of the door
In France during World War 1
He lay wounded when the day was done
He could have met a very bloody end
But for the bravery of his friend
So he lived to fight another day instead
And died an old man in his own bed
THE SOLDIER’S LAST MUSTER
When the sun is in the west
You will safely go to rest
At the setting of the sun
With your soldiers duties done
You will feel your God is nigh
As you ascend up to the sky
And in earths fading light
Where tears diminish sight
Where loved ones question why
A new star will grace the sky
Gleaming bright in the firmament
Proudly amongst the regiment
To mark the passing of a soldier son
Who died not seeing victory won
Now the time that moves us most
The plaintive lament of the last post
For those falling fighting foes
Heads bow as the bugle blows
BEFORE THE KAISER CAME
Before the Kaiser came
Swallows fed on the wing
Above green meadows
Butterflies danced on the breeze
And birdsong filled the copses
Then the Kaiser came
And no longer did birds sing
Mud filled the meadows
Gunfire echoed on the breeze
And rats fed on the corpses
FLANDERS ENDURED
A wondrous pastoral scene
Green fields and meadows
Woodland and hedgerows
Unchanged for centuries
A beautiful place, a safe place
Then came war’s unkind caress
Which swept away the green
Repainted the pastoral scene
In shades of brown
And turned everything to mud
Tree trunks devoid of branches
Stood like rows of rotted teeth
In the mouth of hell
The fetid stench of detritus
Filled the air
All this did Flanders endure
The blood, the mud, the tears
For four long years
Now another kinder hand
Has touched the land
And colour has returned
From the paint box of peace
SERRIED ROWS OF CROSSES
The landscape changed
From peace to bloody war
A hellish muddy landscape
Those men had to endure
And when war was ended
The living had moved on
The dead remained on parade
To forever guard the Somme
The landscape changed
From bloody war to peace
A sombre mark of the passing
Of those who fell before the cease
Serried ranks of white crosses
Marking those who stayed
To be forever remembered
These fallen comrades on parade
FIGHTING TALK
“You’re fighting for a just cause”
That is the justification
“You’ll make the world a safer place”
“You’ll protect your nation”
These are the politician’s words
Spoken with passion and pride
Spoken away from the line of fire
Spoken from where warmongers hide
Men of empty rhetoric
These politicians never see danger
Safe on their leather seats
They never hear shots fired in anger
PROUD HERITAGE
Like many Englishmen
When our history is revealed
My forebears shed their blood
Men who never thought to yield
On the battlefields of England
And on many a foreign field
In South Africa during the Boer War
Granddad got the key of the door
In France during World War 1
He lay wounded when the day was done
He could have met a very bloody end
But for the bravery of his friend
So he lived to fight another day instead
And died an old man in his own bed
THE SOLDIER’S LAST MUSTER
When the sun is in the west
You will safely go to rest
At the setting of the sun
With your soldiers duties done
You will feel your God is nigh
As you ascend up to the sky
And in earths fading light
Where tears diminish sight
Where loved ones question why
A new star will grace the sky
Gleaming bright in the firmament
Proudly amongst the regiment
To mark the passing of a soldier son
Who died not seeing victory won
Now the time that moves us most
The plaintive lament of the last post
For those falling fighting foes
Heads bow as the bugle blows
BEFORE THE KAISER CAME
Before the Kaiser came
Swallows fed on the wing
Above green meadows
Butterflies danced on the breeze
And birdsong filled the copses
Then the Kaiser came
And no longer did birds sing
Mud filled the meadows
Gunfire echoed on the breeze
And rats fed on the corpses
FLANDERS ENDURED
A wondrous pastoral scene
Green fields and meadows
Woodland and hedgerows
Unchanged for centuries
A beautiful place, a safe place
Then came war’s unkind caress
Which swept away the green
Repainted the pastoral scene
In shades of brown
And turned everything to mud
Tree trunks devoid of branches
Stood like rows of rotted teeth
In the mouth of hell
The fetid stench of detritus
Filled the air
All this did Flanders endure
The blood, the mud, the tears
For four long years
Now another kinder hand
Has touched the land
And colour has returned
From the paint box of peace
SERRIED ROWS OF CROSSES
The landscape changed
From peace to bloody war
A hellish muddy landscape
Those men had to endure
And when war was ended
The living had moved on
The dead remained on parade
To forever guard the Somme
The landscape changed
From bloody war to peace
A sombre mark of the passing
Of those who fell before the cease
Serried ranks of white crosses
Marking those who stayed
To be forever remembered
These fallen comrades on parade
FIGHTING TALK
“You’re fighting for a just cause”
That is the justification
“You’ll make the world a safer place”
“You’ll protect your nation”
These are the politician’s words
Spoken with passion and pride
Spoken away from the line of fire
Spoken from where warmongers hide
Men of empty rhetoric
These politicians never see danger
Safe on their leather seats
They never hear shots fired in anger
PROUD HERITAGE
Like many Englishmen
When our history is revealed
My forebears shed their blood
Men who never thought to yield
On the battlefields of England
And on many a foreign field
Tuesday 29 September 2009
THE LAST TOMMY John “Harry” Patch 17th June 1898 – 25th July 2009
God bless you Harry Patch
The last British Tommy to fall
Jack, Jill and Maudie are waiting
Can you hear that distant bugle call?
The serried ranks stand cheering
Calling you to glory Harry
Calling you to reassemble
You must go now no time to tarry
Jack, Jill and Maudie Allen
Are waiting to greet you proudly
Goodbye Harry so long old friend
Can you hear the bugle calling loudly?
Come to the cookhouse door boys
Come to the cookhouse door
Oh fallen heroes, oh hearty lads
I fear we will see your like no more
Jack, Jill and Maudie Allen where the nicknames of Harry Patch’s Lewis machine gun crew who were killed by shell fire on Pilkem Ridge, Passchendaele, Belgium in 1917
The last British Tommy to fall
Jack, Jill and Maudie are waiting
Can you hear that distant bugle call?
The serried ranks stand cheering
Calling you to glory Harry
Calling you to reassemble
You must go now no time to tarry
Jack, Jill and Maudie Allen
Are waiting to greet you proudly
Goodbye Harry so long old friend
Can you hear the bugle calling loudly?
Come to the cookhouse door boys
Come to the cookhouse door
Oh fallen heroes, oh hearty lads
I fear we will see your like no more
Jack, Jill and Maudie Allen where the nicknames of Harry Patch’s Lewis machine gun crew who were killed by shell fire on Pilkem Ridge, Passchendaele, Belgium in 1917
HARRY’S LAST POST
Soldiers bear the last of the lads
In casket draped in the union flag
And then a reverent silence falls
Before the last post’s mournful call
Trumpeting his journey into grace
To feel his comrades warm embrace
Goodbye Harry a soldier known
The final Tommy going home
In casket draped in the union flag
And then a reverent silence falls
Before the last post’s mournful call
Trumpeting his journey into grace
To feel his comrades warm embrace
Goodbye Harry a soldier known
The final Tommy going home
Monday 24 November 2008
AN ORDERED PEACE
An ordered peace
Now hold sway
Where once was chaos
And hell came to earth
Nature has returned
To repaint the landscape
The mud and the blood
Are of the past
The alien terrain
Featureless and without end
Are but a distant memory
The mud now green grass
And poppies grow
Red as the blood that fed them
In the savage harvest
The landscape now is neat
The birds have returned
And grace the trees unknowing
The farmers work the land
Where once the soldiers trod
National flags still flutter
Above ordered plots
For silent armies
All neat and tidy
Uniform patches
Of uniformed crosses
Serried ranks
Of white polished stone
Where lads and pals parade
With eternal regiments
Now hold sway
Where once was chaos
And hell came to earth
Nature has returned
To repaint the landscape
The mud and the blood
Are of the past
The alien terrain
Featureless and without end
Are but a distant memory
The mud now green grass
And poppies grow
Red as the blood that fed them
In the savage harvest
The landscape now is neat
The birds have returned
And grace the trees unknowing
The farmers work the land
Where once the soldiers trod
National flags still flutter
Above ordered plots
For silent armies
All neat and tidy
Uniform patches
Of uniformed crosses
Serried ranks
Of white polished stone
Where lads and pals parade
With eternal regiments
DID YOU FIGHT IN THE WAR DADDY?
Did you fight in the war daddy?
My mother asked my grandpa
He only answered shortly yes
She had picked at an old scar
She jumped for joy and hugged him
And gave out a great hurrah
Did you win the war daddy?
My mother asked my grandpa
He only answered shortly yes
She was proud of her old da
She wanted to know more
But that didn’t get her far
She was just his little girl
And didn’t know the truth
The horrors that he had seen
And all that wasted youth
But these things he kept inside
And could not say to little Ruth
The truth he could not tell her
Was that nobody won the war
Both sides were the losers
If anyone was keeping score
That was the bitter truth of it
The Germans just lost more
My mother asked my grandpa
He only answered shortly yes
She had picked at an old scar
She jumped for joy and hugged him
And gave out a great hurrah
Did you win the war daddy?
My mother asked my grandpa
He only answered shortly yes
She was proud of her old da
She wanted to know more
But that didn’t get her far
She was just his little girl
And didn’t know the truth
The horrors that he had seen
And all that wasted youth
But these things he kept inside
And could not say to little Ruth
The truth he could not tell her
Was that nobody won the war
Both sides were the losers
If anyone was keeping score
That was the bitter truth of it
The Germans just lost more
Thursday 30 October 2008
OVER THE TOP LADS
Over the top lads
Let’s do it for the King
Up and at em Tommies
Let’s do the Kaiser in
Heads up lads
Let’s show some heroism
Death to the Hun
Hurrah for Jingoism
Over the top we go
Putting aside our fears
Then the hail of shot
And we fall like tears
A generation’s youth
Drowning in the mud
Ghosts of our future
Drowning in our blood
Stout hearted we came
Beneath the Belgian sky
We came to fight for honour
Instead we fall and die
Let’s do it for the King
Up and at em Tommies
Let’s do the Kaiser in
Heads up lads
Let’s show some heroism
Death to the Hun
Hurrah for Jingoism
Over the top we go
Putting aside our fears
Then the hail of shot
And we fall like tears
A generation’s youth
Drowning in the mud
Ghosts of our future
Drowning in our blood
Stout hearted we came
Beneath the Belgian sky
We came to fight for honour
Instead we fall and die
Monday 21 January 2008
FOREIGN FIELDS
In the flower of youth cut down
Pals in regiments from every town
Sent to fight in the Nations name
Sent to die to the General’s shame
On foreign fields a generation falls
Heroes for whom the last post calls
Heroes sent to fight across the seas
Names now whispered on the breeze
Gathered as the bell of tribute tolls
Now call with pride the honor rolls
Pals in regiments from every town
Sent to fight in the Nations name
Sent to die to the General’s shame
On foreign fields a generation falls
Heroes for whom the last post calls
Heroes sent to fight across the seas
Names now whispered on the breeze
Gathered as the bell of tribute tolls
Now call with pride the honor rolls
Monday 14 January 2008
THE LAST DAWN
On the horizon the eastern sky was lightening
But the over cast skies were not brightening
The dawn had little effect on the Grey sky
It was certainly a miserable morning to die
The sounds of the long range guns was absent
And the chorus of birdsong had not been vent
Just the cloud scudding across the murky sky
It was certainly a peaceful morning to die
The young soldier was led out in the silence
To face the firing squad to serve his sentence
The last cigarette signaled the end was nigh
What an undignified manner in which to die
The young man wanted to face his fate bravely
If he must die then he would do so with dignity
He would meet his maker with head held high
Though it was such an ignominious way to die
He did not run away and he was not a deserter
Nor a coward and could not be called traitor
But still he stood blindfold neath the dawn sky
In battle would have been a better way to die
His crime was to be blown over by an explosion
To lose his weapon and to suffer a concussion
His only visible injury was a cut above his eye
Its ironic really he was very lucky not to die
He was found wandering out of no mans land
Half senseless and with no weapon in his hand
His only injury was just that cut above his eye
It really is ironic how lucky he was not to die
Little did he know as he marched proudly away
What would become of him on a cold Grey day
When he kissed his love and then said goodbye
Little did he know how he would come to die
Crying out in fear is what filled him with dread
Before the shot was heard he was already dead
A new dawn breaking under the slate Grey sky
Why exactly did this young soldier have to die?
History would show that he was without blame
A young soldier no longer associated with shame
In the war to end all wars this you cannot deny
To be shot at dawn was a ridiculous way to die
But the over cast skies were not brightening
The dawn had little effect on the Grey sky
It was certainly a miserable morning to die
The sounds of the long range guns was absent
And the chorus of birdsong had not been vent
Just the cloud scudding across the murky sky
It was certainly a peaceful morning to die
The young soldier was led out in the silence
To face the firing squad to serve his sentence
The last cigarette signaled the end was nigh
What an undignified manner in which to die
The young man wanted to face his fate bravely
If he must die then he would do so with dignity
He would meet his maker with head held high
Though it was such an ignominious way to die
He did not run away and he was not a deserter
Nor a coward and could not be called traitor
But still he stood blindfold neath the dawn sky
In battle would have been a better way to die
His crime was to be blown over by an explosion
To lose his weapon and to suffer a concussion
His only visible injury was a cut above his eye
Its ironic really he was very lucky not to die
He was found wandering out of no mans land
Half senseless and with no weapon in his hand
His only injury was just that cut above his eye
It really is ironic how lucky he was not to die
Little did he know as he marched proudly away
What would become of him on a cold Grey day
When he kissed his love and then said goodbye
Little did he know how he would come to die
Crying out in fear is what filled him with dread
Before the shot was heard he was already dead
A new dawn breaking under the slate Grey sky
Why exactly did this young soldier have to die?
History would show that he was without blame
A young soldier no longer associated with shame
In the war to end all wars this you cannot deny
To be shot at dawn was a ridiculous way to die
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