poppy field

Byfield & District Branch

A son Remembers

A poem for Remembrance Day.

To reflect modern times, it has been slightly altered from the original that is often recited on ANZAC Day down-under… 

A son remembers… 

I saw a boy marching, with medals on his chest,

He marched alongside Soldiers, marching six abreast,

He knew it was Remembrance Day, he walked along with pride,

And did his best to keep in step with the soldiers by his side.

And when the march was over the boy looked rather tired.

A soldier said. "Whose medals son?" to which the boy replied,

"They belong to my Dad, but he did not come back.

He died out in Afghanistan, up on a Helmand Track".

The boy looked rather sad, and a tear came to his eye,

But the soldier said, "Don't worry son, I will tell you why,"

He said, "Your dad marched with us today, all the bloomin way

All us soldiers knew he was here, it's like that on Remembrance Day."

The boy looked rather puzzled, he didn't understand

But the soldier went on talking, and started to wave his hand,

"For this great land we live in, there's a price we have to pay,

to keep our Country free, and fly our flag today.

Yes, we all love fun and merriment in this country where we live,

But the price was that some soldier his precious life must give,

For you to go to school, my son, and worship God at will.

Somebody had to pay the price, so our soldiers paid the bill.

Your dad died for us my son, for all things good and true.

And I hope you can understand these words I've said to you".

The boy looked up at the soldier and after a little while,

His face changed expression, and he said with a beautiful smile,

"I know my dad marched here today, this our Remembrance Day,

I know he did, I know he did, all the bloomin way!

RESPECT to our fallen comrades, RESPECT to those that have fought for our nation, from wherever they originated!

 

Original credited to D. Hunter, a veteran of Shaggy Ridge 1943/44, Papua New Guinea, Australian 2/12 Battalion of the 18th Brigade.