Originally created to remind one and all of the 11th day of the 11th Month 2012, the poem was written in a matter of moments and is from the heart – I put no real thought in to it whatsoever.
Fast forward to April 2013 and I find myself revisiting ‘Lay Your Weary Head (Old Soldier)’ not to glam it up but to add, modify, enhance what was simply a poem to those that fought on all fronts in all wars.
For the poem and a transcript of the narrative, click here to
We never asked if we could go, oh no we said we was going and that’s that. I was only 15 but a little changing of dates on the form made me old enough. Alf if memory serves was 15 as well but this was war and they needed all the able-bodied so we was in.
Besides this was adventure, excitement, although the next few years made those dreams of adventure and excitement disappear in to the muddied fields we crawled across, mortars poundin’ the sodden earth, bullets whizzing over are ‘eads, taking great chunks o dreams with ’em.
Many times I said to Alf, ‘what happened to the adventure?’ but he never answered, he couldn’t, he’d been killed 4 days after we landed, dozens had met the same fate — buried in makeshift graves, a few quiet words and we was off again — I wondered if they’d be remembered or would I be if I bought it for that matter.
©Copyright Carl Bratcher 05/04/13
All Rights Reserved
Lay Your Weary Head (Old Soldier)
Through mud they trudged
As deep as their knees
Thoughts lingered on
Many had gone but many stayed
In unmarked graves
Were where they laid
From friends a silent prayer was said
Then over the top they went ahead
Bullets cut them down en masse
Some they say should have been in class
Learning English, ‘rithmetic and fun
But battle on, they did as one
Now lay your weary head old soldier
Your battles fought your war is over
No need to remember what you’ve done
Your memories live on in everyone
Lest we forget
©Copyright Carl Bratcher 11/11/12
All Rights Reserved