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Remembrance Day
Hey everyone remembrance day is coming up and as part of the thing i do i generally write a poem or story to share with friends. (not saying its good or anything) its my way of remembering the fallen and living out the words of the Ode Lest we Forget. I hope you like it as i thought i would share it with you my internet friends. Stay safe everyone. Grady
The sound of guns rang in his ears, man screaming, moaning slowly dieing on that muddy flanders track.
He griped his gun tightly ready for an attack. In his pocket sat the photo of his girl, he dare not bear remove, lest he loose it on that bloody stinking track.
The order had gone around 12 days more left to serve, the armistice was coming, thank Christ they might just make it yet.
So he pulled his pen and pad and scribbled a little note, Dear Violet my love the war is nearly over, i am soon to be returned so i send you all my love.
Three days later the sound of guns still ringing the word went up the line, a final push was called for across the stinking track.
Mumbling and swearing he cleaned his rifle fast, a skill he learnt at camp, a skill he'd soon forget.
The guns were silent now and he knew the push was near, he looked across the trench and his mate stared right on back.
And so he pulled his pen and pad and scribbled a another little note, Dearest Violet my love one more push i need to make but i send you all my love and hope that you are well.
He handed his note across the trench a why smile across his face, he had done it all before but this was his last foray across this muddy track.
The whistle went down the line, the boys all stood and cheered and for a moment one could swear all was silent upon that field.
Then crack like a lightning bolt they were running and they were falling, for the guns had come a roaring and with them a bullet in his gut.
And so fingers trembeling He pulled his pen and pad and scribbled a little note, Dearest Violet my love i hope this finds you well, i have a bullet in my gut and it hurts like bloody hell, i am sending all my love and hope you do not fear, no bullet will take me from you of this i am clear.
The war had ended days ago the battle clearly won, by which side not really clear but no more guns could that track still hear.
He laid in his woolen bed screaming with utmost fear, he had a fever a hang mans curse and his gut began to rot.
He's mate stood there near him hopeless at his despair, one run to many he thought to himself against those bloody guns.
And so sweat poring off him he slowly pulled his pen and pad and wrote in finest copperplate, Dearest Violet, it seems my time has come and you will not be by my side, i love you dear i purely do. Now its my turn to do the waiting Violet while you live your life with pride, i will wait for you dear Violet my happy valentine.
And there he lay his final note in hand, his story written his life force spent he had stoop upon the line of that poppy strewn track in sweet green Flanders field.
And what of Violet the one he left behind, she lived her life, a happy one, but still she did sometimes cry.
Then one day her grandchild asked gran, who is that up there, and she said looking at his photo, your grandpa Jack he fell upon the line.
He can't be screamed the boy he is young and he is strong, my other grandpa is old and wrinkled just like you, you see.
Ahh yes, said gran, but we were young and we were stupid when we applauded that bloody was. I had his son, your father jack, and never told him at all.
So she told young Jack a story, written with a pen and pad, that was one day delivered to her very door.
And young Jack his eyes wide with wonder began to cry a little, grandma Violet he said did you forget at all.
Her eyes began to glisten, and for a moment she was young, not at all little one, not a moment lost at all.
That night when she went to bed, Jack asleep safe and sound, she pulled a pen and pad and wrote a little note. Dearest Jack my sweet i am soon to join you, your story has been told, your waiting is complete my love i have complete the Ode.
on Remembrance day this year remember the fallen and the ones left behind, tell your kids a story that they can tell to there's and maybe one day soon no more will have to stand upon that line in a muddy field with pen and pad in trembling hand.
Lest We Forget
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