Poetry - By/for/about soldiers etc

Discussion in 'World War 2' started by Antipodean Andy, Sep 23, 2007.

  1. Antipodean Andy

    Antipodean Andy New Member

    Post WWII soldiering poetry here. I reckon Ron'll have some good stuff!
  2. spidge

    spidge Active Member

    All the blooming way.
    by: D Hunter of 2/12th Bn

    I saw a kid marchin' with medals on his chest.
    He marched alongside Diggers marchin' six abreast.
    He knew it was ANZAC Day – he walked along with pride.
    He did his best to keep in step with the Diggers by his side.
    And when the march was over the kid was rather tired.
    A digger said "Whose medals son? " to which the kid replied:
    "They belong to Daddy, but he did not come back
    He died up in New Guinea on a lonely jungle track".
    The kid looked rather sad then a tear came to his eye.
    The Digger said "Don’t cry my son and I will tell you why,
    Your Daddy marched with us today – all the bloomin' way.
    We Diggers know that he was here, it’s like that on ANZAC Day."
    The kid looked rather puzzled and didn’t understand
    But the Digger went on talking and started to wave his hand.
    "For this great land we live in, there’s a price we have to pay.
    And for this thing we call freedom, the Diggers had to pay."
    "For we all love fun and merriment in this country where we live,
    The price was that some soldiers, their precious life must give.
    For you to go to school, my lad, and worship God at will
    Someone had to pay the price, so the Diggers paid the bill.
    Your Daddy died for us my son – for all things good and true,
    I wonder if you can understand the things I’ve said to you."
    The kid looked up at the Digger – just for a little while,
    And with a changed expression, said, with a lovely smile:
    "I know my daddy marched with us today – on this, our ANZAC Day,
    I know he did – I know he did – all the bloomin' way "
  3. Kitty

    Kitty New Member


    Oh, gather 'round me, comrades
    And listen while I weep;
    Of a war, a war, a war...
    where hell is six feet deep.

    Along the shore, the cannons roar.
    Oh how can a soldier sleep?
    The going's slow on Anzio
    And hell is six feet deep.

    Praise be to God for this captured sod
    That’s rich where blood does seep;
    With yours and mine, like butchered swine;
    And hell is six feet deep.

    That death does wait
    There's no debate;
    No triumph will we reap
    The crosses grow on Anzio,
    Where hell is six feet deep.

    BY: Audie Murphy, 1948
  4. Kitty

    Kitty New Member


    Last night I sat and watched a man die
    He wasn't afraid he seemed in good cheer.
    Last night I sat and asked myself why
    A dying man should feel no fear.

    One minute he breathed, a faint smile on his face
    He wasn't afraid he seemed so at peace
    One minute he was here and then he was gone
    An empty shell in a lonely space

    He said "At last I'm old" and then he died
    Too many go young when a thief steals their time
    At least he was warm, with a friend by his side
    No one should die alone

    Last night I sat and watched a man die
    He wasn’t afraid, he'd faced death before
    Last night he told me how he'd stolen his time
    On a beach in France in '44'.

    From youth he jumped chest high in pink water
    Wading ashore in another worlds war
    Random selection in a senseless slaughter
    Praying to his Jesus for a few minutes more

    He killed his first man near that beach in France
    Fifty years later he still prayed for his soul
    He found his God on that beach in France
    Crying in terror in a too shallow hole

    (Dedicated to the memory of ex Sergeant Arthur Walton,
    Kings Shropshire Light Infantry, British Army 1939 - 1947)

    By: Frank Gibbons
  5. Kitty

    Kitty New Member

    Goodbye, G.I.

    Goodbye, G.I., big-hearted Joe.
    We are glad you came. We hope you’re sad to go.
    Say what you can for this old-fashioned isle;
    And when you can’t - well, say it with a smile.

    Goodbye, G.I., and now you know the way.
    Come back and see us in a brighter day,
    When England’s free, and “Scotch” is cheap but strong,
    And you can bring your pretty wives along.

    Goodbye, G.I., don’t leave us quite alone.
    Somewhere in England we must write in stone!
    “Here Britain Was Invaded By The Yanks,”
    And under that, a big and brilliant “Thanks!”.
  6. Kitty

    Kitty New Member

    Eulogy for a Veteran

    Do not stand at my grave and weep.
    I am not there, I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow.
    I am the diamond glints on snow.
    I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
    I am the Gentle autumn rain
    When you awaken in the mornings hush,
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    of quiet birds in circled flight,
    I am the soft stars that shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there, I did not die.

    Author Unknown
  7. Kitty

    Kitty New Member

    The soldier
    Antoine de Saint Expury

    The soldier is not a man of violence.
    He carries arms and risks his life
    for mistakes not of his making.
    He has the merit of being unflinchingly
    true to his word, to the end,
    while knowing that he will be forgotten.
  8. Kitty

    Kitty New Member

    The Final Inspection
    The soldier stood and faced his God
    Which must always come to pass.
    He hoped his shoes were shining
    Just as brightly as his brass.
    Step forward now, you soldier,
    How shall I deal with you?
    Have you always turned the other cheek?
    To My Church have you been true?
    The soldier squared his shoulders and
    said, No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
    Because those of us who carry guns
    can't always be a saint.
    I've had to work most Sundays,
    And at times my talk was tough;
    And sometimes I've been violent,
    Because the world is awfully rough.
    But, I never took a penny
    That wasn't mine to keep...
    Though I worked a lot of overtime
    When the bills just got too steep.
    And I never passed a cry for help;
    Though at times I shook with fear.
    And sometimes, God forgive me,
    I've wept unmanly tears.
    I know I don't deserve a place
    Among the people here.
    They never wanted me around
    Except to calm their fear.
    If you've a place for me here, Lord,
    It needn't be so grand.
    I never expected or had to much;
    But if you don't, I'll understand.
    There was a silence all around the throne
    Where the saints had often trod.
    As the soldier waited quietly
    For the judgment of his God.
    Step forward now, you soldier,
    You've borne your burdens well.
    Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets;
    You've done your time in Hell.
  9. Kitty

    Kitty New Member

    This was written in reply to Brooke's The Soldier:

    The Mother

    If you should die, think only this of me
    In that still quietness where is space for thought,
    Where parting, loss and bloodshed shall not be,
    And men may rest themselves and dream of nought:
    That in some place a mystic mile away
    One whom you loved has drained the bitter cup
    Till there is nought to drink; has faced the day
    Once more, and now, has raised the standard up.

    And think, my son, with eyes grown clear and dry
    She lives as though for ever in your sight,
    Loving the things you loved, with heart aglow
    For country, honour, truth, traditions high,
    - Proud that you paid their price. (And if some night
    Her heart should break - well, lad, you will not know.)

    May Herschel-Clarke
  10. spidge

    spidge Active Member

    It is the soldier, not the reporter, Who has given us freedom of the press.
    It is the soldier, not the poet, Who has given us freedom of speech.
    It is the soldier, not the organizer, Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
    It is the soldier, Who salutes the flag, Who serves beneath the flag,
    And whose coffin is draped by the flag, Who allows the protestor to burn the flag.

    - Father Dennis Edward O'Brian, USMC (often incorrectly attributed to Charles M. Province)
  11. spidge

    spidge Active Member

    "For the Fallen"

    [FONT=Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]For the Fallen[/FONT]

    With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
    England mourns for her dead across the sea.
    Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
    Fallen in the cause of the free.
    Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
    Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
    There is music in the midst of desolation
    And a glory that shines upon our tears.​
    They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
    Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
    They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
    They fell with their faces to the foe.​
    They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
    Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
    At the going down of the sun and in the morning
    We will remember them.
    They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
    They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
    They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
    They sleep beyond England's foam.​
    But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
    Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
    To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
    As the stars are known to the Night;​
    As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
    Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
    As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
    To the end, to the end, they remain.​
    Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
  12. liverpool annie

    liverpool annie New Member


    Alone and far removed from earthly care
    The noble ruins of men lie buried here.
    You were strong men, good men
    Endowed with youth and much the will to live.
    I hear no protest from the mute lips of the dead.
    They rest; there is no more to give.
    So long, my comrades,
    Sleep ye where you fell upon the field.
    But tread softly please
    March o'er my heart with ease
    March on and on,
    But to God alone we kneeled.

    By: Audie Murphy
  13. CTNana

    CTNana Active Member

    They always make me cry no matter how many times I read them! Whilst I knew that Audie Murphy was a war hero, I didn't realise that he was also the poet - I thought it was a namesake.
  14. liverpool annie

    liverpool annie New Member

    He was also a songwriter Nana !

    Audie Murphy - American Hero

    What a nice looking man he was !! .... and still young when he died .... after all he went through !

    RIP Audie !
  15. Antipodean Andy

    Antipodean Andy New Member

    Not a bad actor either although I've only seen him in Jimmy Stewart's Night Passage.
  16. Kyt

    Kyt Άρης


    I’ll tell you a tale of a Martuba
    Off gunners from old Blighty shores.
    Of Stuka’s and bombs and machine guns
    Of M.E’s and Macchis and more.
    On through the night with ne’er a light
    We crept till the break of day
    With sand in our eyes, we searching the skies
    For the birds, that in Martuba lay.
    A roar in the air, means an M.E. is there
    And he’s out to settle a score.
    As the rounds of our guns, slow the start of the fun
    And the Stukas come out and lots more.
    And then comes the crack of Bafor Ack-Ack.
    And the Bren Guns also let drive.
    One Stuka his tricks end, with just two kicks
    He comes down in a desert bound dive
    We load up our rounds, for the Martuba we’re bound
    And so on for more weary hours
    Till at night we are quite on our marks.
    With the dead on the deck, theirs and ours.
    Aye we’re the boys, Old Englands sons.
    Just some of the lads in the racket,
    With our quads and our guns and our downed
    You betcha we gave em a packet.

    BBC - WW2 People's War - The Story of DOUGLAS HEWITT (my husband) — Part 2
    There are others on that page
  17. johnofmelb

    johnofmelb New Member

    Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels'
    Many a mother in Australia
    when the busy day is done
    Sends a prayer to the Almighty
    for the keeping of her son
    Asking that an angel guide him
    and bring him safely back
    Now we see those prayers are answered
    on the Owen Stanley Track
    For they haven't any halos
    only holes slashed in their ears
    And their faces worked by tattoos
    with scratch pins in their hair
    Bringing back the badly wounded
    just as steady as a horse
    Using leaves to keep the rain off
    and as gentle as a nurse
    Slow and careful in the bad places
    on the awful mountain track
    The look upon their faces
    would make you think Christ was black
    Not a move to hurt the wounded
    as they treat him like a saint
    It's a picture worth recording
    that an artist's yet to paint
    Many a lad will see his mother
    and husbands see their wives
    Just because the fuzzy wuzzy
    carried them to save their lives
    From mortar bombs and machine gun fire
    or chance surprise attacks
    To the safety and the care of doctors
    at the bottom of the track
    May the mothers of Australia
    when they offer up a prayer
    Mention those impromptu angels
    with their fuzzy wuzzy hair.
    Bert Beros
  18. johnofmelb

    johnofmelb New Member

    The Heroes of Tobruk

    Who comprise those gallant heroes, and where did they come from
    Renowned in song and story, Aussies some thousands strong?

    They are composed of Macs and O’s, with Smiths and Jones combined
    With Camerons and Campbells to fortify the line.
    Now famed the wide world over for the blows they gave and took
    On the sandy plains of Africa, in and round Tobruk.

    Now, what inspired such valour, many thousand miles from home?
    It was not lust of conquest – they had plenty of their own.
    It was for faith and freedom, and Australia’s honour, too,
    And to stem the tide of evil and tyranny subdue.

    Urged on by noble sentiments, the Aussies cannot fail.
    For God and King and Country, their arms will prevail.
    You may scan all history’s pages, but wherever you may look,
    You’ll never meet with braver than the heroes of Tobruk.

    James Sweeney (1943)
  19. teamrose

    teamrose Member

    A Soldiers Dream

    Submitted by: Billy Little
    Author: Billy Little
    Every soldier has a dream
    Whilst going off to war
    He dreams of coming home
    And what he`s fighting for

    The promise he made to his mother
    Whispered in a farewell embrace
    Or the tears he wipes away
    From his little sisters face

    He shakes the hand of his father
    Then hugs him ever so tight
    He's holding back the tears
    With all of his might

    His wife kisses him so tenderly
    While his son is at his knee
    He scoops him up into his arms
    The tears flow for all to see

    His little boy wipes his tears
    And say`s “Daddy don't cry”
    I will look after mum for you
    If you were to die

    He puts his son down
    And turns to walk away
    Dreaming, that he will
    Make it home one day
  20. teamrose

    teamrose Member

    military wife do not be afraid

    Author: Janelle Cabrera
    God was watching a military wife one day and she sat in her bathroom crying by herself so her children could not hear. He stood behind her and said

    "Military wife do not be scared.

    I am always behind you your heartache I share.

    Do not be afraid to tell the ones you love

    ,that your soldier may or may not be watching you from above.

    You are tired I know but do not be afraid

    to tell your soldier after his long hard rough day.

    Do not hide inside all the fears that you feel

    Your soldier he will listen and your heart he will heal.

    He thinks of you more than you think of him.

    He loves you so dearly, his heart you did win

    He wants you to know as he crys alone

    That you make his life, his pride and his home.

    Military wife you are not alone

    when you say to your children that daddy will not come home.

    He is with me at last

    and I care for him always

    but his love for you lasts and with you it will stay

    He will watch over you daily and at noon and at night

    He will kiss your head gently even when he's out of sight

    Military wife do not cry, I am here

    I am holding you hand

    ANd I swallow your fear"

    And with that the wife got up on her feet. And although she didn't hear god speak to her. She was alright.

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