Honouring those who gave up their lives (From Gazette Series)

Honouring those who gave up their lives

SIR - Not Into Glory

WHERE did you die, young soldier? Was it on Flanders' field - At Ypres, the Somme or Paschendale Your mortal fate was sealed? Were you one of the thousands Who gave their youthful blood, Walking to death with bayonets fixed, Not into glory, but mud.

Where did you die, young airman? Out on a recce flight Spotting the shot-fall for gunners Veiled through the dawn's misty light? Your engine was struck by stray shrapnel; You plummeted down like a stone To die amid barbed-wire and shell-holes; Unnoticed, untraced and alone.

Where did you die, young sailor? Riding the ocean swell, Patrolling the Eastern Pacific In waters beyond Coronel? With good hope in your heart, my hearty. And Good Hope cleaving the wave Till the shells thundered in from the distance And flotsam alone marked your grave.

Where did you die, young soldier? On the sand dunes of El Alamein? Behind enemy lines with a single jeep - A highly dangerous game. No portent of disaster - No sight of an enemy gun; But the touch of a mine left your shattered frame Beneath a pitiless sun.

Where did you die, young airman? In the dusk of the waning light, Chasing the flare of a flying bomb As day spilled into the night? But the tide of life was ebbing As you aimed and opened fire - To near - too near - the final blast Became your funeral pyre.

Where did you die, young sailor? Where was your final sleep? In the midnight of winter toward the far north, In the chill of the Arctic deep? In the wake of Russian convoy A torpedo found its mark And you and your ship and your comrades Sank down in the depths in the dark.

Ron Skinner, Dursley