Tag Archives: World War 1

history, Poetry

We Will Remember Them: Reflecting on WW1’s Legacy

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Today is Armistice Day. World War 1 ended at 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.

I wrote a poem to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the end of WW1. I’ve published it before on Dragons Rule OK, and make no apologies for re-publishing it now.

For those of you who haven’t seen it before, I hope you enjoy it and that it makes you think of the futility of war. And to those of you who remember it, similarly.

War is evil and should never happen. It’s always a result of greed and/or hatred; two emotions that should be relegated to the deepest depths of Hell. And as all wars end in talks, why not begin there?

Here’s my poem.

We Will Remember Them.

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.

    Granddad 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 young men’s hands brought death.

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

    Uncle Jim was my Grandfather’s brother. I never knew him as I wasn’t born when he died.

    ‘Our poor Willie’ was what my grandmother said when referring to her brother. No one ever knew why he was ‘Our poor Willie’, except that she didn’t get on with his wife and thought she made his life difficult.

    I hope you enjoyed my poem. I wish I thought it might make a difference to the terrible wars going on at the moment, but I’m just a teeny drop in a vast ocean. Sadly, my voice is only heard by a very few people.

    Please let me know what you think in the comments box.

    You can read more of my poetry by clicking on the cover in the side bar. This one comes from Miscellaneous Thoughts.

    history, Poetry, World War 1

    We Will Remember Them

    Leave a comment

    I posted this poem once before, but have decided to post it again as on Sunday it’s 100 years since the Armistice . I hope you enjoy it.

    Britishtrenchww1

     

    WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

    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 02grandad
    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.

    015gtunclewilly1Grandad 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 young men’s hands brought death.

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

    Poetry, World War 1

    A poem to commemorate WW1

    Leave a comment

    I make no apologies for re-posting this poem. I wrote it 2 years ago to commemorate the anniversary of the start of  World War One. As July 1st is the 100th anniversary of the terrible battle of the Somme, I thought I’d post it rather than the next episode of The Wolf Pack. That I’ll post next week instead.

    My Great Uncle Jim, whom I mention in the poem. came back too, but he died shortly afterwards from the results of gassing. The lady known as Auntie Polly, who was his fiancee at the time, never married, but the family always treated her as though they had been.

    ‘Our Poor Willie’ was also my great uncle. He was my maternal grandmother’s brother. She always referred to him as ‘our poor Willie,’ but no one ever knew why.

    amapolas-28961290013507Xx9

    WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

    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.

    015gtunclewilly102grandad

     

    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.

    Britishtrenchww1

    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 young men’s hands brought death.

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

    V.M.Sang

    July 2014

    I make no apologies for this poem not being in the modern idiom of no rhymes and little rhythm. I’m old-fashioned enough to think that poems ought to differ from prose, and many modern ones I’ve read are little different. That doesn’t necessarily mean rhyming though. I’ve written blank verse myself on occasion.

    I also think that they ought to be comprehensible!

    Please leave a comment in the comments section.