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“THE GLORY OF WAR”

 

They marched towards their doom

Persuaded by

Sermons in churches

Love of their country,

Recruiting officers in pubs

Who bought them beer

In return their signatures

And white feathers from ignorant women.

A death sentence

To entire villages of young men,

Friends and commardes

Who entered the nightmare

Of the trenches

Gas,

Bombs,

Barbed wire,

No-man’s land,

Trench foot, lice and the mud

Of the churned land of France.

Then home they came – or not –

The remains of an army,

Limping, hobbling on crutches, blind

And shell-shocked.

 

Thomas B

 

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They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

 

For the Fallen Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon

The GreatWar 1914-1918

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The cold wind blows,

Freezing the mud,

Candlelight glows,

Warming our blood.

 

Soldiers are cold:

As cold as ice,

Food tastes like mould,

We say it’s nice.

 

Sea of sorrow,

Through No-Man’s-Land;

Hearts are hollow,

Longing for England.

 

Fingers are numb,

Trench fever strikes.

Injured by bombs:

We’d rather hike.

 

By Rachel H.

God Our Father,

This is our payer to you,

Bless the souls of those who died,

For freedom and liberty,

Let no sacrifice be in vain,

Forgive us and our foes,

Protect all engaged in war,

Let no person be killed by a bullet, bayonet, shell or dagger,

May all war cease.

May there be peace in the present and future.

Amen

Timmy C.

 

 

O Lord,

Help us to remember those who died for us, to learn from World War One and never fight again. We ask for forgiveness of those who have gone before us; who shed the blood of their enemy. Bless those who died before us and may they live happily with you.

We say these things humbly in the name of Jesus Christ,

Amen.

Noah H.

War in the Winter

 

The snow in the moonlight glow,

the mirror crystals of ice and

the cold little brown mice.

The howling wind and the gun shots low,

the happy dogs playing in the snow.

A blanket covering No-Man’s–Land,

small snowflakes lay on the bags of sand.

Frost on my hands out of the coldness of the night,

but I know in the morning I will have to fight.

Anya D.