Lest We Forget

[Hiram.A.Biff]

Why do you still march old man, with medals on your chest?
Why do you still grieve old man, for those friends you laid to rest?
Why do your eyes glaze old man, when you hear that bugle blow?
Tell me why you cry old man, when you think of long ago.....

Ill tell you why I march young man, with these medals on my chest.
Ill tell you why I cry young man, for friends I laid to rest,

Through misty fields of gossamer silk, come visions of those times,
when boys of young and tender age, marched forth to distant climes,
In mud filled trench and and sun baked hill,
on snow capped mountain high, they fought for king and country son,
they fought for you and I,

They fell among the stones and rocks,
they fell among the grass,
they lay in poppy covered field, no more their time to pass,

We buried them in blanket shroud,
their bodies scorched and blackened,
in shallow graves all newly gouged, in blood stained gorse and bracken,

you ask me why I march young man,
I march to tell you all,
that without these medals on my chest
you\'d have no freedom at all.



Lest we forget eh lads.......


[Edited on 13/11/2005 by Hiram.A.Biff]

[Stores]

Enough said.

[Hedley]

Well said!

[KeithB]

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 a 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 uncountered:
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.

http://www.poppy.org.uk/

[willywetegg]

Aye nice one lads.

Jim.

[Lowrider]

Well said lads.
Watched some interviews with some veterans on the news.
The horrors they saw should never be forgotten,nor their sacrifice.

[SIXFOOTSTEVE]

Nothing more to say ,nice one lads.

[Oblickta]

Was at the parade today at Eldon Square and enjoyed every minuet, very emotional at times.

Nice words lads

[SIXFOOTSTEVE]

I really miss taking part in the parade ,always a very pround nad sad day for me and most of the other lads in my battery.

[Oblickta]

Bless \'em all....