THE MAN I NEVER MET
At 11am the guns were mute, a calm was in the air
After four long years, the dogs of war, were banished from their lair
A two minute silence was invoked, to ponder on those lost
But for all who stood there in their grief, it came at too great a cost
It was the war to end all wars, when the carnage did finally cease
But for every soul who gave their life, one died during the peace
They lie not by the Dardanelles, or under Europe’s blood soaked loam
Some called them the lucky ones, for they had made it home
They’d not escaped the reaper’s scythe, as he still had their name
For within a generation, he would make his claim
The gas that scarred their fragile lungs, aged them in their prime
Till they finally succumbed, well before their time
Their names are not on honour rolls, in city or in town
And they are not remembered, when the sun goes down
For duty and for country, they made the sacrifice
As with their fellow fallen, they paid the highest price
I still recall a special one, whose photo is on the wall
Gazing from eternity, through death’s sombre pall
When I bow my head in proud respect, and pledge “LEST WE FORGET”
I see again my Grandad’s ghost, THE MAN I NEVER MET!
By Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton
27 September 2014
In honour of Captain William Henry Hamilton, who was born in Scotland and joined the British Army as a boy musician in 1885, aged fifteen. As a member of the 11th Hussars, he served the entire length of World War One in France, as a dispatch rider. He later became a well-known identity in the Irish Aviation industry.
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