by Andrew Blakemore (b 1966)
We were pinned down by the gunfire In that scorching desert heat, Outnumbered by the enemy Yet we swore we'd not retreat, We were cut off from our unit But we held that line alone, Until a sniper's bullet Felled my friend just like a stone. I held him in my arms As he lay dying in the sand, I cradled him against my chest And held his bloody hand, His frightened stare shall haunt me Till I join him in the grave, I tried my best to help him Yet his life I could not save. He breathed his last then closed his eyes And as he slipped away I knew I'd lost my greatest friend Upon that wretched day, He'd fought with me until the last With honour and with pride, Both comrades on the battlefield And brothers side by side.
That is why every country should have a Remembrance Day to respect the young men and women that their respective governments sent to war irrespective of which side they were told to fight for.
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There are probably many examples but this made me think of my grandfather (born 1895) who joined the Liverpool Pals – the King’s Regiment – along with his younger cousin Bob Roberts. They were at the Battle of the Somme in 1916. Grandad survived the first day and survived the war. Bob died on that first day while advancing on the German lines.
Grandad always remembered him, as did the rest of the Pals who survived that grim conflict.
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The only time I ever saw my father cry was the year that ill health prevented him from going to the cenotaph to honour his fallen comrades.
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He was a very caring man. I think we were both lucky with the parents we had.
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