An adventure beckoned, be safely home soon.

At the Christmas table, save me some room.

Bit young to understand what it’s even all for.

But me and my mates we’re off to fight a war!

 

The King’s rallying calls, we heard them loud.

Fight for your Country, stand tall, stand proud.

The reasons to fight, we were never even sure.

But it didn’t stop us signing up and going to war.

 

But the front line soon beckoned, what’s all this.

We were cannon fodder, they could hardly miss.

An easy victory promised, glory and pride galore.

That’s the reason we eagerly went off to this war.

 

We felt betrayed, but the young lads battled on.

Mass slaughter we saw, that ‘glory’ we saw none.

Every order followed, carnage followed for sure.

My King, please remind me of those promises of war.

 

An ‘in and out war’ we thought, by Christmas won.

But years later and the stench of slaughter not done.

My best mates all gone, young lads and no more.

Keep your ‘glory’ keep your promises, keep your war.