St Crispin’s day has been
A bloody day in
history
Famous for being a
day
When battles were
fought
High in the cost of
life
Among these, in 1944
The Battle of Leyte
Gulf
In the Pacific theatre
Of World War Two
Fought in the waters
Of the Philippine
Islands
Off Cape Engaño, Samar
Island
And in the Straits of
Surigao
The largest naval
combat
In history, between
The Navy’s of the
Japanese
And the United States
When the Japanese
fleet
Was comprehensive
destroyed
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
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
Was it the organisation?
That was to blame
Or profiteering
retailers
Perhaps too greedy
Pubs and clubs to
liberal?
Uninterested in
consequences
A faulty screen was a
factor
In the ensuing
conflict
But all of the above
played a part
So technology caused
the spark
And Alcohol fuelled
the flames
What began with
scuffle and skirmish
Erupted in a volcano
of hate
And then the battle
commenced
As the angry and the
drunk
Rampaged through the
city
The police were
mobilized
To quell hostilities
But hopelessly out
numbered
They had to withdraw
They fell back to
regroup
Pursued by packs
Of blue clad animals
In the mêlée
A lone officer, a tail
ender
Already wounded by a
bottle
Stumbled and fell
before his pursuers
They quickly
surrounded him
And kicks rained in on
him
But amidst this
madness, this carnage
A rangers fan, an army
man
Hauled the stricken
officer to his feet
And dragged him away
from the fight
At first stunned the
thugs looked on bemused
Then they charged on
Urged on by the
soldier
The officer ran
muscles burning
But for the soldier
propelling him along
The officer would have
fallen
Then sanctuary was in
sight
A police van sat
invitingly
But they must run on
The soldier yelled
encouragement
The officer responded
As they reached the
police van
The officer was pushed
into the back
And a line of yellow
coated police
Swarmed onto the
attacking rangers phalanx
And in that instant
the soldier was gone
Where did he go, the
Good Samaritan
Who was he? This savior
The soldier whose
humanity
Surpassed his baser
instincts
Will we ever know who
he was?
Or where he came from
Should we try to find
him?
To heap glory on him
Or should we just
thank God for him
May 14th
2008
The events following the UEFA Cup final at the City of Manchester Stadium
From the dark cloudless skies
Comes the engines
drone
Of that unseen and
menacing evil
In grim formation
flown
Then comes the sirens
song
Telling of impending
death
As the city looks
skyward
Holding a collective
breath
Long beams of light
Searched out the evil
flock
Criss-crossing the
darkness
In every quarter of
the clock
Towards the shelters
The civilian’s ant
like scurry
As the guns began
desperately
Trying to stop the
enemy
Fire and death rains
down
Upon the weary
populace
In macabre equality
The walks of life feel
deaths embrace
As buildings fall to
the ground
In rubble and dust
Life and history
instantly erased
After the bombs
combust
Then come the sirens
again
Calling out loud, all
clear
And from underground
The jaded survivors
reappear
To count the cost
Of the night at the
gates of hell
Then thanking God
For keeping them safe
and well
Gaps on the ravaged
skyline
Missing Churches and
hostelries
Fire still burns where
once stood
Homes and factories
Hoping against hope
That their home
survived the night
But despite all this
They never thought to
give up the fight
When idle thoughts lead me back down Memory lane
I think of Mr
Chamberlain stepping from the plane
Desperately clutching
that piece of paper he waved
That promise of hope
that Europe would be saved
How we all held that
precious hope in our hearts
Before the promise of
peace finally fell apart
And how that hope
evaporated to leave me scared
When Chamberlains
voice said war was declared
Hitler’s broken
promise broke Neville’s heart
Another world war blew
his appeasement apart
Then up steps Winston
Churchill into the fray
His boldness and stiff
resolve eventually won the day
A broken man,
Chamberlains life came to an end
Many years before the
war he tried so hard to prevent
Harry is the spare,
not the heir
So he chose to follow
a military career
And the ginger Prince
went to war
Amidst muck and
bullets, blood and gore
He is a braver man
than I by some way
It’s a shame the press
gave the game away
Now the prince is
coming home again
To the land of his
grandmothers reign
For as he bravely
faced the Taliban
There were dangers for
the princely man
For even under the
pale winter sun
He had to wear factor
ninety one
I miss the place
Where I journeyed into
this world
Where a loving mother
Kissed me and gently
brushed my curls
I miss the place
Where mother taught me
the joys of life
And my father
Taught me to seek
harmony from strife
I miss the place
Where my school days
first began
And those friends
That made up our
inseparable band
I miss the place
Where my heart had an
optimistic view
And I miss the face
Of my one and only
love so true
I miss the place
Where summer days
seemed without end
Where natures bounty
Spilled from the
fields we had to tend
I miss the place
Where the bones of my
parents lay
And the times
When our days were
full with play
I miss the place
I knew before I grew
into a man
And took up arms
To fight for the king
in a foreign land
I miss the place
That is the home I
shall never see again
Never smell the
grasses green
Or taste those gentle
summer rains
I miss that place
My distant home far
across the sea
The place I left
behind
So I could die
fighting for the free
Since that day
In that fateful
campaign
When you stepped
willingly
Upon that sodden
Flanders field
And were gathered in
During that bloody
harvest
Your future was no
more
Since that day
In that fateful
campaign
When you stepped out
and fell
Upon that sodden
Flanders field
And lay with silent
comrades
During that bloody
harvest
Your dreams were no
more
Since that day
In that fateful
campaign
When you stood and
were counted
Upon that sodden Flanders
field
And lay in the company
of hero’s
During that bloody
harvest
Your hopes were no
more
Since that day
In that fateful
campaign
When you were called
to god
From that sodden
Flanders field
With hordes of silent
comrades
During that bloody
harvest
You could love no more
Since that day
In that fateful
campaign
Others lived to fight
another day
From that sodden
Flanders field
And when the cost was
tallied
After that bloody harvest
The world was changed
forever
Since the day the
peace was one
Others ventured out in
the world
And thrived in a world
for ever changed
A world you helped to
change
You could not reap the
rewards
You could never again
walk in the sun
Or Feel a cooling breeze
upon your face
You gave your life for
others futures
You fell to fulfill
others dreams
Your sacrifice secured
others hopes
Since you fell others
have loved
And been loved in
return as you could not
When you fell upon
that sodden Flanders field
You sowed the seed of
freedom
When the fragile
seedling bore fruit
It changed the world
forever
Since prehistoric times, humans populated
The mountainous lands of Armenia
Adam and eve, in the biblical garden of Eden
Trod this land in the shadow of the Armenian highlands
And Mount Ararat towered above
Upon which Noah’s ark came to rest
Christianity was nurtured in these historic lands
Sustaining and comforting the gentle people
They lived in peace for centuries
The oldest Christian nation of the world
Until the Ottoman Empire spread
And they fell under Turkeys oppressive
yoke
Churches and
Cathedrals were desecrated
And the devout
Christians Persecuted
Four centuries of
oppression past
Until finally in utter
despair
They rose up against
the tyranny
To shake loose their
shackles
And drive out their
Muslim overloads
But hopelessly
outnumbered and ill equipped
They failed to win
their freedom
And the wrath of their
Turkish masters
Was brought down upon their
heads
With merciless
efficiency they struck
Killing indiscriminately
And when the savagery
ended
50,000 Armenian souls
had ascended
Then 20 more years of
suffering followed
When the savage allies
of the Kaiser
Sent word from
Istanbul
To solve their Armenian
problem
A chilling phrase
echoing through the years
This time their
actions were unprovoked
And the butchery
unprecedented
One and a half million
Christian souls
Were sent heavenward
by the Turkish tyrants
A solution that
provided the Germans
With a template for
the future
Which they would
employ to great effect
The European empire grows
Ever greater Day on
day
Governed from its
Brussels base
Yet ruled from Paris
and Berlin
Yet this empires
growth is not it seems
Restricted by the
continents borders
The arrogance of
Germany and France
Not content with
European expansion
wish now to expand the
empire into asia
Pushing the borders
far beyond
the Bosporus straights
And the Sea of Marmara
Natural waterways
separating continents
Enabling the empire to
encompass
Turkey and then beyond
The Occidental empire
enveloping the Orient
Faith is a very simple thing
Between you and your
God King
Don’t let the legion
of Clergy
Over complicate by
liturgy
The church do not own
our Deity
God is inherent in the
laity
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
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 eleventh hour
The T’s were crossed
And the I’s were
dotted
The eleventh day
Books were balanced
Of the butchers tally
The eleventh month
Seeds were sown
For the Second World
War
By the French at
Versailles
They fell
Like ripened corn
Cut with scythe’s
stroke
In seasoned hands
They fell
Like cherry blossom
Set free
By an April breeze
They fell
Like skittles toppled
By a wooden ball
Skilfully played
They fell
Like mighty English
oak
Cut in thousands
To build the mighty
fleet
They fell
Proudly and unwavering
Before their enemy
Uncompromising in
their duty
They fell
Like the valiant
Cut down before their
time
A generation forever
lost
We walked towards the enemy
Hidden in the mist
That lay like a silent
shroud
We picked our way
Across the open ground
Until the silence was
broken
As overhead, a shell
burst
Raining death and
shrapnel
Knocking us to the
ground
Throwing us hither and
thither
Like skittles in an
alley
Broken bodies lay in
the Flanders mud
Of “no mans land”
Before me Tommy hung
on the wire
His body vivid red
Cut from neck to groin
Even a baker such as
I, knew
He was beyond earthy
aid
“Shoot me” he pleaded
His face etched deep
with pain
I knelt before him
contemplating his request
Then his face relaxed
And he called out
“mother”
Though not in pain or
anguish
Not a cry for help,
but a greeting
An exclamation of joy
As he was returned to
her arms
War had diminished my faith
But in that instant it
was restored
By a single death, my
friend Tommy
I remember
Those with no future,
But only a gallant past
I remember
Those who never lived,
To enjoy the fruits of their sacrifice
I remember
Those who will be
forever young, Those who will never be old
I remember
When the sun sets on
their past, And rises brilliantly for our future
I remember
Father’s, sons and
brothers, Husband’s, friends and lovers
I remember
That lost generation
of men, Who went to war for our tomorrow
I remember
Poor man, gentleman
and scholar, Who stood shoulder to shoulder
I remember
Those who fell before
the foe, For a future they wouldn’t know
When soldiers stand neath flags unfurled
Before going to war to
do the biz
Be sure before they’re
sent to save the world
They re happy with the
world the way it is
Through leafy glades we walked together
In the dappled shade
beneath the trees, where
Spots of light chase
each other frantically
As the soft summer
breeze moves the treetops
As on the forest floor
the patterns change
In some places shafts
of golden sunlight
Burst through the
canopy, like sunbeams
Sent down from God
above to light the darkness
In the sunnier spots
the blue bells dance
As if to entertain the
travellers
The path leads us
upwards into the light
Each step taking us to
ever lighter skies
Until we emerge atop a
green hill
We looked out across
the land, England
And knew what we had
all fought and died for
To save this land from
the spoils of war
Early on a September morning
Both towers struck
without a warning
Heat and smoke and
twisted steel
This New York City
scene surreal
A familiar skyline
forever changed
Countless victims of a
foe deranged
Fanatics commit this
act of shame
These murders done in
Allah’s name
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
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
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
Since the cooling of the Nazi’s oven fires
And the fading glow of
the funeral pyres
The world has had to
endure the mutterings
Of those who deny the
holocausts sufferings
The inane ramblings of
conspiracy theorists
The bigoted bile of
Islamic fundamentalists
The holocaust now
stricken from the syllabus
We must not speak of
it lest we cause a fuss
We must appease the
liberal sentiments
For God forbid we
might cause offence
But the holocaust
happened, SHOUT it aloud
Shout it in the face
of the apathetic crowd
For if we do not
condemn the holocaust deniers
Somewhere, one day
they will relight the fires
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
Ghurka warrior
Proud and loyal
How can you take
This cruel betrayal
Always williing
To take up arms
To suffer war
And all its harms
You defended empire
And commonwealth
Fighting hand to hand
And in stealth
You stood and fought
In our nations name
How we forsake you
To our governments shame
Ghurka warrior
Loyal and proud
You now have justice
Let us cheer you aloud
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 comrade’s
warm embrace
Goodbye Harry a
soldier known
The final Tommy going
home
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
