Do we forget?

Do We Forget?

It is nearly two weeks since Remembrance Sunday November 8th, being the nearest Sunday to the official Remembrance Day of the 11th hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. Of course everyone knows that, or do they? Do they care? Many apparently don’t always seem to care, and some who take shelter here may even seek to do us harm or resent us in our “blessed plot, this earth, this realm this England” (William Shakespeare Richard 11). Forgotten times maybe, but it is our culture and history that too many have fought for, and died to protect!

We are all now, whatever team you “bat for” or support, in another war with this Curse of Covid that has been visited and unleashed upon us, causing much death, fear, restriction and creating a sort of living death. A copy of “unseen mustard gas” floating across the world with no compunctions about wrecking and ending lives, whilst seemingly having no favourites or pretence to take prisoners. Ring any bells? The gas in the trenches or the Death Railways where dying almost seemed a privilege. Lest we forget……

I was honoured, humbled and very proud to be asked to read one of my “armed forces” poems on BBC Radio Sussex, Surrey and lol even parts of Hampshire on Sunday 8th November on their Remembrance show, hosted by the excellent Sylvie Blackmore who has kindly guested me on the station and her show a few times now.

This is the poem, a prestigious prize winner, that I read on air that day, to, from kind feedback, many compliments, tears and lumps in throats. Well it was a special day and my son served in that Afghanistan place, so of course I was sombre and passionate, Lest we forget….

Letter From Afghanistan

A letter sent back from Afghanistan

Was not something to receive,

For it was probably tragic news

With no one coming home on leave.

Or a letter could be hand delivered

Titled on the “occasion of my death”,

Penned for you by a loved one

And will take away your breath.

Because deploying troops are told

This was a letter they had to write,

Explaining their career commitments

And love for family while they fight.

Obviously when writing the letters

The authors hoped that it would be,

Just a precautionary exercise

And that nobody would need to see,

Their words of love and farewell

As they would return safe and sound.

So the “just in case it happened” mail,

Would not be homeward bound.

But sadly many such letters needed

Reluctant opening by shaking hands,

To a feeling we can only imagine

As nobody completely understands,

This sickening and traumatic time

When this letter home is read.

For it can only have dire meaning,

And that their loved one is dead.

Fortunately I never had to bear this

Although at times my heart would drop,

But I’ve met and seen such bereaved

And just know their pain won’t stop.

So we must honour and appreciate

Our armed forces standing strong,

Who sacrifice and determine for us,

That very little will go wrong.

*

Not too much to add after that, only perhaps to ask that people support the various charities today who seek to help, protect, rebuild and rehabilitate our wounded. It is well documented that I promote, donate to and fund raise for the excellent Help for Heroes.

From my 8th and latest published book “Poetic Seeds to Fruition” comes the following…

Lessons to be Learnt

Your country needs you the posters said

And you can fight beside your chums,

So off they went to the war in France

And said goodbye to girls and mums.

Very ordinary chaps, not heroes yet

Were all excited, feeling hearts soar,

Marching off to their great adventure

To win a war that will end all war.

Well that was the propaganda then

And may even have been said in fear,

For sadly that was not to happen

At any time after, or in a future year.

Because the unprecedented bloodbath

Caused mass suffering and deprivation,

As world war one’s attrition dragged on

With atrocities that stunned a nation.

So men who were totally unprepared

Witnessed sights that shouldn’t be seen,

Like petrified men drowning in mud,

Gassed, or blown up in deaths obscene.

Thus casualty figures hardly believable

Rose as the slaughter went on unabated.

For that final push was regularly tried

On wasted, bloody ground not sated.

With thousands of men mowed down

Strewn in agony or a hideous death,

Many crucified across the barbed wire

As devils disciples gasped for breath,

While their evil work was continued

But performed by unknowing men,

Who had only answered a patriotic call

That took them to hell there and then.

And so agonising slaughter continued

By new weaponry invented to kill,

Flowers of a generation sent to solve

Arguments that war never will.

*

I hope we can really remember as we battle this modern day plague, maybe despatched as a general reminder or punishment of our behaviour of killing our world treasures and animals, but no, that’s another story, so let’s put on our masks and give thanks they don’t have to be gas masks! Lest we forget….

All eight of my books :–

Poetic Views of Life

More Poetic Views of Life

Reviews of Life in Verse

Life Scene in Verse

Life Presented In Verse,

Poet Reveals All (in your world).

Poet Reflects Your World

Poetic Seeds to Fruition

These all ensure my donation to the excellent charity I support, promote and donate to, that being Help for Heroes.

My first 3 books are only priced £4.99 each, with my 4th and 5th bigger books at £6.99. My new 8th and sixth & 7th books, all bigger are still £9.99. and all are for sale on Amazon, book stores or preferably from me ………….. lw1800@hotmail.co.uk Or 07967 355236

I can now also write a “Personal Poem” for you, your family, any event or your business too…….

I also have a Facebook page “The Psychy Poet Laurie Wilkinson”, and a website:- www.psychypoet.com please sign/join up absolutely free.

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