What do we forget when we remember
What are the stories left untold
What do we think each November
As we march down that glory road
As we march down that gory road
One hundred million
Don’t come home from war
Another eight hundred million
Who lived to bear its scar
Who lived to bear its scar
Lest we forget
What they were dying for
Lest we forget
What they were killing for
Lest we forget
What the hell it was for
What do we forget when we remember…
Owen Griffiths
What are the stories left untold
What do we think each November
As we march down that glory road
As we march down that gory road
One hundred million
Don’t come home from war
Another eight hundred million
Who lived to bear its scar
Who lived to bear its scar
Lest we forget
What they were dying for
Lest we forget
What they were killing for
Lest we forget
What the hell it was for
What do we forget when we remember…
Owen Griffiths
Today I have been wearing my Poppy with pride. I have been thinking a lot today about those fighting and those who have fought in war for us. Thinking of their families, for the lives lost, for the scars both physical and mental. I have a lot to be grateful for.
One man in particular I have thought of on numerous occasions so far today is Harry Patch, the last fighting Tommy.
17 June 1898 – 25 July 2009
I read his autobiography earlier this year, such a great and moving book, I would highly recommend it. It surprised me as it is not the type of book I would usually go for but after buying it for James and seeing him read it so quickly, then seeing a programme on the telly about Harry I had to pick it up, I then discovered why James struggled to put it down. Such a wonderful and truly lovely man who did his country proud.
On this day I will remember them.
Love Gem x x x x x
Gorgeous post. Bless Harry Patch. He was always such a sweet looking man.
ReplyDeleteTake care and have a lush weekend.
xxxxxxx
wonderful post gem,
ReplyDeletesorry i've not been in touch about meeting up, life is hectic as usual but i will be in touch soon!!!
tracy x
I remember his death as my hubby was in Afghanistan at the time.
ReplyDeleteRemember too the families left behind, the children who will never know their parents but as a photograph. The parents who buried their sons and daughters thinking how roles were reversed.
Xx
A lovely tribute to those we have lost x
ReplyDelete