Post by mikey1961 on May 19, 2014 15:21:05 GMT
This is a poem I wrote about my Great Uncle I would like to share with you.
Walter Mallandaine 280270 of the Lancashire Fusiliers 1/7th Bn. Killed in Action 9th October 1917.
My Great Uncle Walter
You left home one sunny day, to fight the Hun that’s what they say,
With your Salford pals on the great crusade, your parents though, they wished you’d stayed,
Their son was going off to war, with the First and Seventh of the East Lancs. Corp.
With his rifle, boots and mighty pack, god speed my son and hurry back.
They landed in France and on to Flanders field, but what did Jerry have concealed,
On those muddy plains where nothing grew, oh those poor boys, only if they knew.
At the break off dawn they heard the whistle sound, and now their hearts began to pound,
This is it boys, the officers said, for king and country and off they sped.
But they didn’t get far those Salford boys, for beyond the battle and the mighty noise,
They fell with their faces to the foe, their pain and anguish we’ll never know,
That’s all I know of my Great Uncle Walter, but like millions before him, he didn’t falter,
When his country called he didn’t delay, he left old Blighty and joined the fray.
The 9th October 1917 was the day he died, oh, how his parents must have cried,
Dead, in the mud, aged just twenty one, but did he get to fire his gun?
We found his grave some eighty years later, and thought of him lying there in some crater,
Cut to ribbons by the relentless fire, but now he’s at peace with a heavenly choir.
One of many, I’m sad to say, but they died for us and peace they say.
Great Uncle Walter you brought me to tears, god bless you and the Fusiliers.