Grandas Wartime Tales

jenny1959

When I was a little girl
My grandfather had a tin
With a sailor smoking a cigarette on the lid
It was what he kept his medals in


He called them Pip, Squeak and Wilfred
And I asked him what they were
He said the nineteen fourteen star, the British war medal and the Victory medal
From World War One, but they're not rare


He told me his war memories
Could fill many a page
Then said he’d been recruited
Even though he was underage


He told me he’d had a shock
When on the internet he'd seen
That a quarter of a million young men had signed up
All under the age of eighteen


He said recruits had a medical
To make sure they were fit to fight
They must have a minimum chest size of thirty-four inches
And five feet three was the minimum height


He told me he’d heard something
That had really filled him with rage
That recruitment officers got two shillings and sixpence
If they turned a blind eye to someone under-age

 


He added that he and some old army friends
Used to spend hours chatting on a bench
Recalling a soldier they’d known
Too short to see over the edge of the trench


My granda had asked his friend, a fourteen year old recruit
What on earth he’d signed up for
He reluctantly replied he had clamoured
For the excitement of fighting in a war


He told them of my father’s brother
Who had been the first born son
Blown to pieces at fifteen
Recruited by passing for twenty-one


He didn't survive to get medals
His parents thought of him as brave
Many times since then
I have visited his grave


No remains are buried
Just a plaque that bears his name
A list of lives that were lost
No bodies left to claim


He also told them about the time
That my late Grandma spent
Visiting her beloved Alexander
As he lay in a fever tent


He had typhoid fever
And he managed to survive
The doctors and nurses told her
He was very lucky to be alive


My grandfather would tell war stories
That would chill you to the core
Tales of the atrocities
And casualties of war

  • Author: jenny1959 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 1st, 2017 09:30
  • Category: Sociopolitical
  • Views: 14
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Comments +

Comments5

  • Christina8

    Very well written poem. Very interesting! Thank you for sharing!

  • Fay Slimm.

    What an moving read - - "blown to pieces at fifteen" years old - those days brought out bravery in lots of young souls who then became just fodder for war and such a sad life for the widows and sweethearts left behind.

  • Michael Edwards

    Superb read Jenny

  • Goldfinch60

    Very good write, so many lost to war.

  • willyweed

    yes they lie about the glory of war there is no glory just painful memories of war I was in a war too Vietnam a different war but same old lies thanks for telling this truth the one's who start the wars should have to fight them I bet they would not be so quick to start them then> WW



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