In 5/6/1940 Poem by Ewen A Morrison

Father and my Uncle fell then;
fresh soldiers, two young men.
Highland troops, in fight-gear,
engaging battle, enemy near.

Uncle Angus, machine gunner,
was killed that dire Summer.
On same day, father fell too,
another hit man, further two.

Angus dead, wounded brother,
a killed man - maimed other;
our forces fought, retreated...
in battling on, fight heated.

The number wounded and slain;
many dead - others felt pain.
All my family suffered too,
many 'fell'...'HD' knows who!

All 'parents', grieve for both;
'news-of'...as we'd all loath!
Angus fell - enriched in pride,
Roddy hit, and others beside.

'Roddy' restored, over years,
both could cause many tears;
he bore his wounds with him:
battle scars, all were sin!

Such sad history, is in the past,
but the feelings may surely last?
People are, from beyond memory;
wishing to banish war entirely!

Amen


E.A.M.