REMEMBRANCE

Bodies with faces that are 
     unseeing and unknowing
lie bruised 
     crushed and
               bleeding
at the bottom 
     of a muddy trench
          with the stench
of death
     all around - 
What a waste
     of lives.

Someone's
     husband
          father
               son
                    brother 
                         fiancé 
courageous 
     brave and heroic.

Tears roll
     down the faces
          of those 
who loved them
     but will
          never see them again and
 never had 
     the chance
          to say “Goodbye”.

The freedom 
     they fought for 
          is real
               not abstract
freedom from fear 
     injustice and
          bigotry
freedom 
     to choose 
          to act and
               to speak out
We will 
     remember and
          honour them
with love
     sadness   
          respect and
               gratitude

But the question is
     “Was it all worth it?” 

© Maureen Iles 10/11/16

I wrote this poem for Remembrance Day 2016, but have altered it slightly to use again today, but the photograph was taken this morning.  

Since we found out more about Mr. HCB’s Uncle Ernest, who was born in February 1919 and killed on the 10th July 1944, in France, Remembrance Day is always much more poignant.  

Ernest and Christine were married in March 1942, just before he was sent to France, so he and his wife had precious little time together, like many others at the time.   

After doing some research online, a few years ago, I found out that his widow, who is now well into her nineties, was still alive, so we went to Banbury to meet her when she told us that she had kept the photograph of Ernest in her purse since the day he died.  She must feel very sad today for all that could have been and never was for them.  Ernest is buried in Banneville Cemetery, Calvados, France.

“Only the dead
     have seen the end of war.”
Attributed to Plato