‘Soldier, come to me’
In that bloody, muddy Hell we met …
I, a scared and shaking boy
You, stern Corporal
I cried for Mother, You held me tight
I cried for Father, You held me tight
I screamed for God, You held me tight
My Mother, Father, God,
You gently rocked me… spoke little …
Just gently rocked…. and talked of home
Held me to your chest
One early morning in that Hell
Smothered me in hugs
Muffling sounds of bomb and shell
You had a boy back home you said
About as young as me
Invisible now, your Corporal’s stripes
Silenced, the barked orders
Muted, the unforgiving tone
Just someone else’s father
That I had on loan.
Based on a true story reported in the book Passchendaele by Lyn Macdonald. (pp 178-179). Man and boy went over the top together the next morning. Nothing is known of what became of them.