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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A Hero’s Story She was an old lady an Aunt I remembered well Sitting chatting with my mother on the subjects they didn’t dwell Looking at her face and into her eyes I saw pain that could not be disguised She’d speak of her husband sometimes Who was dead those years ago her life spent alone so unkind He had answered the call in 1916 To the Western front a hell on earth it seemed He had been the company runner Needed when the guns cut the wires asunder So he left the trench at the worst time From shell hole to shell hole in what cover he could find Drifting over the battlefield the gas came Lying low it filled the shell holes and didn’t drain And he breathed a lung full of poison air Before he was able to place his gas mask on there He continued on through the mud not yielding Still carrying an important message the weight so unyielding He found the Battalion headquarters that night Reporting that his mates were holding a trench in a terrible fight He wanted to go back with his mates But he started to cough as his breath was not great He was ordered to a Casualty Clearing Station To be treated for gas inhalation with others he was waiting The men were brought in while he stayed Some saying they were OK and they would go back right away But the gas ate their lungs and they died In a dance with death he could not abide He survived after Blighty leave Thinking he’d beat the gas so he believed When the war ended he went back home Marrying her they settled down Building their life with two children around The gas came back and ate out his throat In the end cancer was there on a wining note And when he died they said the gas didn’t have a part to play So there was no war pension for her in those days When we say Lest we forget On ANZAC and Remembrance Day each year yet Remember a brave lady to tell Who struggled on alone no support except family as well. © Paul Warren Poetry
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