Lest wae forget

Lest wae forget

Ullans Speakers Association - Article 14 - November 2009

It’s baak roon tae tha time o’ year whun it behoves is aa tae min tha yins wha dee’d in defence o oor freedom. The poppy sellers hae sterted tae sell thaur wee rid flooers an tha ex-servicemen an weemen ir gettin things ready tae houl thaur Rememberance Day parades.

Noo as a boady wha yince wore a uniform in defence o mae ain country an loast mair nir yin guid freen in tha conflict wae caa’ ‘tha troubles’ A think it is richt that wae niver forget oor fallen heroes.

A wus taakin tae an aul freen tha ither dey wha focht in tha second wurl war an hae wus sayin ye wud think that wae aa tha wars an tha millions that hae baen loast tae war wae wud hae twigged on that it changes naethin. Noo am naw jest sae sure aboot that but yin thing aa dae know it destroys plenty, an tha yins wha gae aff tae war come baak different folk than what they wur whun they went awa. But onywye eneuch rantin frae maesel, here is a wee rhyme that saes it aa. Author unknown.

His Mate

There’s a broken battered village
Somewhar up behin’ the line
There’s a dugoot an’ a bunk there
That A ustae sae wus mine.

I remember hoo I reached them
Drippin’ wat an al’ forlorn
In the dim an’ dreary twilight
O’ a weepin’ summer morn.

Al’ that week I’d buried brithers
In yin bitter battle slain
In yin grave I laid twa hunner
God, what sorro an’ what pain!

An’ that nicht I’d been in trenches
Seekin’ oot the sodden dead
An’ jest drappin’ them in shell holes
Wi’ a Service swiftly said.

For the bullets rattled roon me
But I cudnae lae them there
Wather soaked in flooded shell holes
Reft o’ common Christain prayer.

So I cralled roon on mae belly
An’ I listened tae the roar
O’ the guns that hemmered Thiepval
Lake big breakers on the shore.

Then there spake a drillin’ Sergent
Whun the time wus growin’ late
Wud ye please bury this yin
Cause he ustae be mae mate.

Sae we groped oor wiy in darkness
Tae the body lyin’ there
Jest a blacked lump o’ blackness
Wi’ a rid splotch on his hair.

Though we turned him gently ower
Even noo I hear the thud
As the body fell face forrit
An then settled in the mud.

We went doon upon oor faces
An I said the Service through
Frae I am the Resurrection
Tae the last the grate Adieu.

We stud up tae gie the blessin’
And commend him tae the Lord
Whun a sudden licht shot soarin’
Silver swift and lake a sword.

At a stroke it slew the darkness
Flashed its glory on the mud
An I sa’ the Sergent starin’
At a crimson clot o’ blood.

There ir mony kin’s o’ sorro
In this warl o’ love an’ hate
But there is nae sterner sorro
Than a Sojer for his mate.

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