We walked to the barracksBernie, John, Eric and meTime for call upIn the British ArmyA beautiful morningIn the month of MayWhen we entered the gatesWe were filled with dismayThe R.P’s greeted usAnd shouted with gleeWe hope you bastardsWill never be FreeSix weeks on the squareWe marched up and downSquare bashing finishedWe marched through the townWe marched to the stationThe train took us...
They lowered his body into the sandIn a far away foreign landFor Johnny was a soldier
The bugler played our last farewellThe rifles cracked and who will tellOf Johnny who was a soldier
(John Gibbs buried May 1949 Moascar)
Bill Underwood
From the series “National Service poems 1947-1949 by Bill Underwood “
Poor Paddy, we took him along the road to hell, through Ishmailia to Moascar Jail. Paddy looked sick and was really quite pale, as we entered the gates of Moascar Jail. Which of the bastards will be prisoner here? Screamed the provost Sergeant as we stood in fear. Prisoner and escort double around the room, the Sergeant’s voice then did boom. We double and doubled and doubled around, till...
“Blood Hell” said Ginger we did run wellMuch faster than any GazelleFor on that day the stakes were highNear fifty of them against Ginger and IRocks and stones hurtled through the skyBut none of them hit Ginger and I“Bloody Hell” said Ginger we did run wellEnkeliz askari yallah imsheeThe mobs were screaming in old TripoliBut as Ginger said we ran so wellWe survived that day to tell the...
Egypt farewell, Goodbye, AdueWe leave you now foreverOur time is up, demob is dueWe’re homeward bound whatever We marched and slept on burning sandsWith scorpions to torment usYou did not want us in your landOur deeds sometimes outrageous We go now to our promised landWhere grass is green all overSweethearts will wander hand in handOur army days are over Bill Underwood, England From the series...
In the Corn ExchangeThe band played“Now is the hour”We danced the last waltz I walked her homeWe kissed goodbye On the troopshipI sailed away Six hundred nightsI dreamedOf the last waltzAnd the goodbye kiss On a troopshipI sailed home In the Corn ExchangeThe band playedI didn’t danceThe last waltz I walked home alone Bill Underwood From the series “National Service poems 1947-1949 by Bill...
Audacieusement sise à cette hauteur, Cette maison proprette et d’une vigne ornée Est au milieu d’un tel déploiement de splendeur Que l’on devrait, il semble, y trouver le bonheur. Pourtant elle est abandonnée. Abandonnée, avec ces champs verts alentour ! Vide, quand on peut voir de toutes ses fenêtres Des coteaux, des vallons et des coteaux toujours ! Déserte, quand un lac au...
J’ai dit à mon désir : pense à te bien guider,Rien trop bas, ou trop haut, ne te fasse distraire.Il ne m’écouta point, mais jeune et volontaire,Par un nouveau sentier se voulut hasarder. Je vis le ciel sur lui mille orages darder,Je le vis traversé de flamme ardente et claire,Se plaindre en trébuchant de son vol téméraire,Que mon sage conseil n’avait su retarder. Après ton...
C’est l’automne. Le vent balanceLes ramilles, et par momentsInterrompt le profond silenceQui plane sur les bois dormants. Des flaques de lumière douce,Tombant des feuillages touffus,Dorent les lichens et la mousseQui croissent au pied des grands fûts. De temps en temps, sur le rivage,Dans l’anse où va boire le daim,Un écho s’éveille soudainAu cri de quelque oiseau sauvage...
Puisque le cors blessé, mollement estenduSur un lit qui se courbe aux malheurs qu’il suporteMe faict venir au ronge et gouster mes douleurs,Mes membres, jouissez du repos pretendu,Tandis l’esprit lassé d’une douleur plus forteEsgalle au corps bruslant ses ardentes chaleurs. Le corps vaincu se rend, et lassé de souffrirOuvre au dard de la mort sa tremblante poitrine,Estallant sur...