As November the eleventh

Again draws nigh,

My thoughts go back

To a time gone by,

When the world was then

Again at war,

And I as a child

Saw the horrors it bore.

Like the night when we

Were being attacked

By enemy planes

That kept coming back,

An experience which

I’ll never forget,

And one that still

Haunts me yet.

There were call-up papers

And evacuation,

Scenes of destruction

And devastation,

- But for me

The most daunting thing,

Was my gas-mask which was

- Stifling.

But today as I stand

At this cenotaph,

I remember those

That didn’t come back,

And gratefully say

My thanks to them,

As much is owed

To those valiant men.

By Beryl Wills