For the Fallen, 11/11/1918

For the Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon


Lest we Forget

[lampshade]

What will you do when the war is over, tender comrade
When we lay down our weary guns
And go our separate ways
When we return home to our wives and families
And look into the eyes of our sons
What will you say of the bond we had, tender comrade
Will you say that we were brave
As the shells fell all around us
Or that we wept and cried for our mothers
And cursed our fathers
For forgetting that all men are brothers

Will you say that we were heroes
Or that fear of dying among strangers
Tore our innocence and false shame away
And from that moment on deep in my heart I knew
That I would only give my life for love

Brothers in arms in each other arms
Was the only time that I was not afraid
What will you do when the war is over, tender comrade
When we cast off these khaki clothes
And go our separate ways
What will you say of the bond we had
Tender comrade

[Archie Blagger]

I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears;
And caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts;
And buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts;
And rusted every bayonet with His tears.


And there were no more bombs, of ours or Theirs,
Not even an old flint-lock, not even a pikel.
But God was vexed, and gave all power to Michael;
And when I woke he'd seen to our repairs.

Wilfred Owen

[little e]

This always reminds me of my Grandfather, he smoked Woodbines too

The Spirit

When there ain't no gal to kiss you,
And the postman seems to miss you,
And the fags have skipped an issue,
Carry on.

When ye've got an empty belly,
And the bulley's rotten smelly,
And you're shivering like a jelly,
Carry on.

When the Boche has done your chum in,
And the sergeant's done the rum in,
And there ain't no rations comin',
Carry on.

When the world is red and reeking,
And the shrapnel shells are shrieking,
And your blood is slowly leaking,
Carry on.

When the broken battered trenches,
Are like the bloody butchers' benches,
And the air is thick with stenches,
Carry on.

Carry on,
Though your pals are pale and wan,
And the hope of life is gone,
Carry on.
For to do more than you can,
Is to be a British man,
Not a rotten 'also ran,'
Carry on..

'Woodbine Willy'

[Epping]

Dear Lily,

The Captain says we've all been very patient,
To put up with the mud and noise and guns:
The Captain says it WILL soon all be over;
By Christmas or New Year, we'll all be done.

Love Albert.


Dear Lily,

The Captain says we'll finish it by lunchtime;
And then we can go home - the fighting stop:
The Captain says the Generals have decided,
At half past four, at dawn, we go over the top.

Love Albert.



Dear Lily,

The Captain says we’ll all get leave at Christmas,
But first we have to overcome the Hun;
The pale pink light of morning is approaching,
The final dawn offensive soon be done.

Love Albert.


Dear Lily,

The Captain says the poppies are a symbol
Of the rightness of this madness in the mud;
At dawn, the creeping coldness of the trenches
Will be tempered by the rising of the sun.

Love Albert.



Dear Lily,

The Captain says that when the war is over
And us heroes are returned to kith and kin,
We’ll forget that we were sick and cold and frightened
And everyone will welcome heroes in.

Love Albert.


Dear Lily.

The Captain says look straight ahead, don’t falter
And when the order comes to go, don’t be afraid;
For God is at the shoulder of the righteous…
And the poppy is the emblem of the brave.

Love Albert.



Dear Lily,


The dawn is here now, the poppies are beautiful.

Love Albert.


Found in a trench at Thievpal, on the Somme, 1st July 1916, addressee unknown

A poem I've found both moving and inspiring, it was found in the pocket of a dead 'unknown' soldier during WWI:

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there,
I did not die...

CHAVASSE, Noel Godfrey

Captain, Royal Army Medical Corps, British Army
attd. 1/10th Bn., The King's (Liverpool) Regiment Campaign First World War

Age 31
Nationality English

Deed On 9 August 1916, at Guillemont, France, Captain Chavasse attended to the wounded all day under heavy fire, frequently in view of the enemy, and during the night he continued searching for wounded in front of the enemy's lines. Next day, under heavy shell fire he and a stretcher bearer carried an urgent case 500 yards to safety, being wounded himself during the journey. The same night, with 20 volunteers, he rescued three wounded men from a shell-hole 36 yards from enemy trenches, buried the bodies of two officers and collected many identity discs. Altogether he saved the lives of some 20 wounded men.
BAR: During the period 31 July to 2 August 1917, at Wieltje, Belgium, Captain Chavasse although severely wounded early in the action while carrying a wounded officer to the dressing station, refused to leave his post and in addition to his normal duties, went out repeatedly under heavy fire to attend the wounded. During this time, although practically without food, worn with fatigue and faint from his wound, he helped to carry in badly wounded men, being instrumental in saving many who would otherwise have died under the bad weather conditions. Captain Chavasse subsequently died of his wounds. BAR Gazette: 14 September 1917.

Killed In the above action.
Other Decorations MC
VC Publicly Displayed Imperial War Museum (London, England)

Remarks One of only three men to be awarded the VC twice (the others are A. Martin-Leake and C.H. Upham).

[Bob Fleming]

TBVs post shows a true hero, they all were who fought.

Not sure if you all know but if you have a relative who died you can locate their war grave at the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.

http://www.cwgc.org

My great uncle died during the Gallipoli battles and is buried on the greek island of Lemnos.

[Epping]

Originally Posted by Bob Fleming

TBVs post shows a true hero, they all were who fought.

Not sure if you all know but if you have a relative who died you can locate their war grave at the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.

http://www.cwgc.org

My great uncle died during the Gallipoli battles and is buried on the greek island of Lemnos.

One of my Grandads Neighbours had lost a brother in the Great War around The Ypres battlefields... and since my brother was based in Ypres working for the Commonwealth War Graves commission he tracked down the old fellas brothers headstone... The old fella never had a chance to get to Belgium to pay his respects so my brother took a photo and when he was next at home he took it to him so that he could at least see for himself that he was in a peaceful place...

I f my brother had seen these threads nobody would get a word in sideways.... when he joined the CWC he got really interested in the war..

and he got a chance to meet many veterans who used to come to Ypres and pop in for a drink at the English club in the town

[BillQuayForever]

The missus' maternal family were decimated in the first world war. They are all buried in a row in the graveyard at horsted Keynes in Sussex: The dad, the brothers, the sons. The family name of Britton will certainly be the middle name of junior if its a boy.

Very sad - seeing all those hulking headstones lined up like they are standing on parade - fair brings a tear to my eye every time we go.

Lest we forget eh.