I could not write just any Poems here this week, the Poems for this week have to commemorate Remembrance Sunday that takes place here in the UK this coming  Sunday.  November is the month when we should all remember those that gave the biggest sacrifice of all, their Life.  The Poppies still grow in Flanders Fields, and we wear the Red Poppy to Remember.


DULCE et DECORUM EST    –    By Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep.  Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood shod.  All went lame, all blind;

Drtunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas shells dropping softly behind.


Gas! GAS!  Quick boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.-

Dim through ther misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.


In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhering in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s  sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, –

My friend, you would not tell, with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old lie:  Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.



A Prayer Book was handed into a Charity Shop in Henfield, West Sussex.  The Charity Lady whilst looking through this old Prayer Book cam across a Poem, not just any Poem but a terribly miving Love Poem from a Soldier to his Wife at home.  The following was written:

“With love to Nancy, in remembrance of our Wedding Day 14th September 1938”.  The book was sent to Nancy Harrison by her Husband Jim, while he was serving  in North Africa in 1943.  The message read “From Jim, 1943, North Africa”.

“To my Wife” it read –

Charm and wit, and beauty fair,

Figure trim and lovely hair,

All of these are yours my Dear

But let me whisper in your ear.


“Tis not these youthful charms alone

That make me love you so, my own;

In years to come these charms must fade

As beauty’s toll to age is paid,

And something deeper must be there.


“An understanding, loving care,

A unity of hearts and minds

That Man and Wife for ever finds.”And this deep love I now enjoy

That ageing time can ne’er destroy.

“And through your beauty charms me yet

(In fact, I never shall forget,

And to mine eyes you’ll always be

The same as when you promised me

That you’d be mine my Love).

I know deep down within that

I shall love you, Darling, till I die.”


The North African Campaign of the Second World War took place in North Africa from 10 June 1940 to 13 May 1943.

The Prayer Book with the Poem belonged to Nancy from Ryedale, North Yorkshire.

How wonderful that such a loving, adoring Husband would write such a romantic beautiful Poem to his Wife.   —     To be adored and loved as such, one can only dream.



In just eight short lines, A.E. Housman talks about the sacrifices young men took when fighting in the War and the pride and honour of dying while in service for the Nation.


Here dead we lie

Because we did not choose

To live and shame the land

From which we sprung.


Life, to be sure,

Is nothing much to lose,

But young men think it is,

And we were young.


The First World War saw little regard from so many of those who sent such fine young men, a Generation, to their Deaths.  One would hope that by the time the Second World War happened a lot of those attitudes ended, and subsequently.   Are we wrong to think so?



One by one

and side and side

they stand there swaying

each one a memory


The Flanders Poppies still grows

in fields now green

where once was mud and blood

where young men fought each other

and far too many gave their lives


Young men so eager to go to War

but soon the days and weeks

and months and years did prove

that all they wanted

was to return to their homes


Be those homes so far apart

like that enemy line

they must not cross

who was the enemy some pondered that


One side Allies

the other German

Men who mostly did not hate each other

But to War they were sent

and to die they did


Some Wars senseless

some Wars have to happen

no arguments on that please

all Wars leave Blood spilt

for that is sure


Arrgh Life

can we pretend its perfect

No, of course it is not

we live with death

Wars go on and men die


Still the Flanders Poppies grow

once the fields had mud and blood

we must Remember those that died

in all Wars and from every walk of life


On the 11th Hour of the 11th Day of the 11th Month 1918 the Guns finally fell Silent, and it marked the End of the First World War, or The Great War or The War to End All Wars – just a few of the names used.  The War was finally over and not just the Allies but the Germans lost Generations of fine young Men.

We Remember on this day November 11th at the 11th Hour all those who sacrificed their lives in all Wars for those of us who know what Freedom is.  We take our Freedom too lightly.   So Please Remember Them All.   For Us They Gave Lives.














In Flanders Fields.  Thank You to Dirk Coutigny
















    1. Thank you Sir for your very kind words. I know I have said this before and I do believe we British do not show our appreciation enough to all those Americans who came here prior to and during the War, all those that fought on our side for the Freedom, today that is even more important to keep our Freedom. Take care.

      Liked by 1 person

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