Every year, I think of those who gave their lives in service to their monarch and country.
Each year, many more fall and each year, many more are wounded of body, mind and spirit as a result of the work they do.
They are suffering every day, as a result.
We owe them a debt and that debt is paid by keeping their memory safe and by handing it down, from generation to generation.
Tomorrow, with my family, I will be at a remembrance service to hear the names of the fallen called and to give thanks for their ultimate sacrifice. It will also be a time to think of those who have been injured, maimed or mentally scarred whilst doing their duty. They suffer their duty every day.
A poem I wrote today...
Forward to the breach my son,
Grab a bayonet, grab your gun,
Charge with purpose at the hun,
You can rest when you are done.
In the heat of battle cry,
As blood is spilled and bullets fly,
Give your guts now, don’t be shy,
If courage fails then you will die.
Think of friends at home, at rest,
Give for them now, do your best,
Now’s the time to take the test,
Give your all, although hard-pressed.
You’ve done your utmost from the start,
Rest your head; you’ve done your part,
Sleep my son and still your heart,
Lay with brothers on the cart.
Through mud and snow and sun and rain,
Lay peacefully, you’ve earned refrain,
Unburdened now from earthly pain,
Just memories of you remain.
Of sacrifice for home and King
Of how you gave up everything
Of how you lay down in the spring
And now, in gratitude we sing.
Show not sorrow. Shed no tear.
Just remember every the year,
Those who pushed, through pain and fear.
Protecting those, who they held dear.
See you at the going down of the sun.