Harry was a soldier. Harry went to war.
Harry hadn’t got a clue, what he was fighting for.
Harry saw a poster, for what he thought was true, of this general, with a
big moustache, saying your country, it needs you.
In 1914 Harry joined the army and to the continent did sail, fighting in
the trenches in Ypres, the Somme and Passchendaele.
Harry stood in those trenches, up to his knees in mud.
He heard the big guns firing, with an almighty thud.
He heard the whistle blowing, over the top he had to go.
How many of his mates died that day, he would never know.
Yes, Harry got some medals, and of war he had a taste.
Harry lived to tell his story, of the devastating waste.
Yes, Harry still remembers, though he is very old, and his body starts to
shiver, as if he has just felt cold.
He remembers all those mates who died, he’s not ashamed to tell, how much he cried.
He must now wonder why he joined the cause.
To fight what was supposed to be, the war to end all wars.
Politicians still think they are right,
but it’s the Harrys of this world, who have to fight.
How many people does it take to die, to show how our politicians lie...?
By Brian Hurry