Saturday, 26 July 2014

Poetry: We Will Remember Them

This is a poem to remember those who fought in World War 1

I did decide to put my poetry on separate pages, but I can't seem to find my poetry page at the moment.
Also, I intended to publish this poem on the anniversary of the start of WW1, but that is Monday and I won't be near my computer then, so here it is now.


I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.

My Grandad went with Uncle Jim
And Our Poor Willie, too.
They sent them off, singing a hymn.
Grandad went to Gallipoli,
Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
Gas in trenches did kill him.

I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
Grandad with gun in hand.
A peaceful man, sent out to die.
He fought for us, for you and me
So we can live and so that we
Safely in our beds may lie.

Grandad came home, and Willie too,
But millions more did not.
Their duty they all had to do.
They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
Everything was caked in mud.
Yet in those fields the poppies grew.

The War to end all wars, they said,
So terrible were the deaths.
The youth of Europe all lay dead.
Yet 21 short years to come
Another war. Once more a gun
In yougn men’s hands brought death.

One hundred years have passed since then.
What have we learned? Not much!
Too many nen are killing men.
Wars still abound around the world.
Bombs and missiles still are hurled
At those who disagree with them.


July 2014
My Grandad was indeed a very peaceful and gentle man. He was wounded in Gallipoli and sent home. He convalesced in Deganway, North Wales. Great Uncle Jim did not die in the trences, but he was gassed and sent home, but never recovered. I never knew him. He was engaged to a girl from Manchester, Polly, but he died before they married. She was always accepted by my family as if they had been married and was known as Auntie Polly. My aunt had her engagement ring.
'Our poor Willie' was my grandmother's brother. No one ever knew why she called him 'our poor Willie'.
I am attaching photos of my grandad and 'our poor Willie' to this blog. I don't have one of my Grandad from the war, so this is on his wedding day. Willie's photo is from the war.

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