This poem was read out today by a Second World War veteran at the Chelmsford remembrance parade this morning.
Why do you still march,old man,
With those medals on your chest?
Why do you still grieve old man,
for those friends you laid to rest?
Why do your eyes still gleam ,old man,
When you hear those bugles blow?
I'll tell you why I march young man,
with those medals on my chest.
I'll tell you why I greive young man
for those friends I laid to rest.
Through misty fields of gossamer silk
come visions of distant times.
When boys of very tender age
marched forth to distant climes.
We buried them in blanket shroud
Their young flesh scorched and blackened
A communal grave newly gorged
In the bloodstained gorse and bracken
And you ask why I march young man
I march to remind you all
but for those apple-blossom youths
You'd never have known freedom at all.
I always thought that I understood just what remembrance day was about, I learnt more today seeing all the old soldiers march, and seeing just what it meant to them to be there.
Today was a memory that will forever stick in my mind.
To the younger generation, I strongly urge you to think hard about what this poem is about, and see what it means to the men it was written for.
Thank you.
lew
