What a poignant legacy for "My Three Kids " .......... I am writing this tonight, My three kids By a little candle-light, My three kids And the candlestick's a tin With some dry tobacco in And so that's how I begin, To three kids Now I wonder what you're at, My three kids Moll and Bids and little Pat, My three kids Why of course there's two asleep But perhaps Moll's thinking deep Watching little starts that peep, At my kids Since I left you long ago, My three kids There's a lot you'd like to know, My three kids That has happened to your dad In the varied luck he's had In adventures good and bad, My three kids I have soldiered in a trench, My three kids Serving under Marshall French, My three kids Once a shell dropped with a thud Quite close, covered me with mud And its lucky 'twas a dud, For my kids And I've crossed the ground outside, My three kids It's at night that's chiefly tried, My three kids And the bullets sang all round Overhead, or struck the ground But your daddy none has found, No my kids I have mapped our trenches new, My three kids And some German trenches too, My three kids I have sprinted past a wood Counting steps, for so I could Judge the distance, as I should, My three kids I have placed our snipers where, My three kids On the Germans they could stare, My three kids And they killed their share of men Quite a lot for snipers ten From their little hidden den, My three kids And I've slept in bed quite warm, My three kids But I haven't taken harm, My three kids When upon the ground I lay Without even straw or hay In the same clothes night and day, My three kids When they sent us back to rest, My three kids Then they seemed to think it best, My three kids To send on your dad ahead To discover where a bed Could be found, or some old shed, My three kids And new officers were trained, My three kids And the men we've lately gained, My three kids And while that work was in hand I was second in command Of B Coy and that was grand, My three kids But it didn't last all through, My three kids There was other work to do, My three kids When they made me adjutant I was busy as an ant And its not much catch, I grant, My three kids I have ridden on a horse, My three kids Captured from a German force, My three kids And I've marched and crawled and run Night and day in rain and sun And shall do it till we've won, My three kids And I'd rather be with you, My three kids Yet you know I'm lucky too, My three kids Lots of men I used to know Now are killed or wounded, though I remain, and back I'll go, To my kids And I hope you'll all keep well, My three kids Just as sound as any bell, My three kids And when this long war is done We shall have some glorious fun Moll and Bids and little son, My three kids Captain Robert Stewart Smyle, Royal Scots Fusiliers Born Birmingham. Raised and educated in Ballymena. Taught at Daventry Grammar School, Lewisham House School, King Edward's School, Chelmsford. Latterly headmaster Subury Grammar. A former Essex Territorial Officer. Killed in action 14th July 1916. Early on 14 July Smylie led C Company of the 1st Royal Scots Fusiliers into position near a quarry to the north of Montauban. The battalion was in support and did not advance until around 07.00. When they moved forward onto the slopes of Longueval Ridge, they suffered heavy casualties. Five officers were killed, including Smylie. They were buried close to the nearby road but the grave was later moved to Flatiron Copse Cemetery. http://www.freewebs.com/snake43/ballymenaswarpoet.htm
