Thursday, April 23, 2015

Remembrance of war - IX


(6/8) for Sixth Platoon, 308th I.T.C.

One morning in Spring
We marched from Devizes
All shapes and all sizes
Like beads oin a strng,
But yet with a swing
We trod the bluemetal
And full of high fettle
We started to sing.

She ran down the stair
A twelve-year-old darling
And laughing and calling
She tossed her bright hair;
Then silent to stare
At the men flowing past her -
There were all she could master
Adoring her there.

It's seldom I'll see
A sweeter or prettier;
I doubt we'll forget her
In two years or three,
And lucky he'll be
She takes for a lover
While we are far over
The treacherous sea.

- John Manifold


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