A Heros Story
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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