WORLD WAR1 REMEMBERED
They stand in line looking neither left nor right
Young boys tall and straight going off to fight
Excited, nervous, never left home
Lived with family, never been alone
Never strayed far from village or town
Going off to war for King and Crown
Been given the King's Shilling, an honour they are told
A Pals battalion, strong and bold
They wait with baited breath as the crowds whoop and cheer
Give those Germans what for, there's nothing to fear
The drum major indicates let's strike up the band
Off to be soldiers in a foreign land
Don't worry lads you'll be home before long
It will be over by Christmas as they burst into song
Chests burst with pride as they march to the tune
Pack Up Your Troubles see you again soon
But behind the facade, there is anxiety
What war will bring is a mystery
What lies ahead nobody knows
Who will survive the onslaught from the foe
Who will die in battle, suffer in body and mind
Sacrifice their life for the future of mankind
If only they had known what lay ahead
700,000 would soon lie dead
Kitchener has declared, Your Country Needs You
The boys rallied to the call, let's show the Hun who's who
Comrades in arms they laugh and joke on route
Issued with rifles they have learned how to shoot
No longer at rabbits and foxes but at the enemy
Young boys also, an example of war's futility
But how many will return, no longer boys but men
Some will die on the field and not see dear old Blighty again
One hundred years on we salute those who died
And those maimed and injured, we remember them with pride
We remember those boys looking neither left nor right
As they stood tall and straight, going off to fight
For King and country their lives they gave
For peace for future generations, they went to their grave
But peace has not yet come, yes for some but not all
Was their death in vain, for nothing did they fall
Was it all senseless, has the world taken no heed
Of the death of those boys to fulfil a minority greed
As we teeter on, war never far away
We must always remember the fallen who never lived to fight another day
Irene Stuart
A Lost Son
She keeps house, she cooks, she washes and mends my clothes,
yet she never looks at me
her contempt for me is palpable
She blames me
She thinks I should have said “no”.
He'd begged and pleaded
I could see the adrenaline pumping through his veins
there was fire in his belly
It's how I felt when I went to fight the Boers
I couldn't deny him
as an Englishman it was my duty to let him go
She will never forgive me
I will never forgive myself
Irene Stuart
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