THE DAY MY CHUM DIED! Parts 1 & 2 (WW1)


Today my chum died, nothing I could do to help him!
Died - not a hero's death - died a soldier's - death - that's a matter of fact!
Court by a stray shell - ironically - it were one of ours!

Died slowly how slowly he died in my arms that day - not as Kipling wrote of
Not a glories death! Yes, a solders death - that's certain!
His death not clean without pain, not an instant death!
Not in a bed, with crisp white sheets, warm blankets
His only were to be the blanket - the one that were his shrowded - army issue - body tied up with rope!
Has, I will tell his family in my letter I'll and the officer will write - to Berts - wife
NO! My chum died slowly - in great pain - in his own filth - he died!
A shell splinter disemboweled my chum - another splinter had slashed off his face
The splinter were hot - so his face wound did not bleed - Bert - dispite these - Wouds DID NOT DIE - QUICKLEY - HE - HUNG ON TO HIS LIFE - POOR BARSTEAD!
He were gergaling - wanted to talk - had no tongue - no mouth - to say any words with!
No, I'll say - their, Bert, shot in his hart, died instantly, his death, clean!
Well what you write to Berts, family, his old mum, his siter, his wife, she had a kid!


On arriving back in Ramsgate on leave. I decided, I'd best go see, Bert's family.
I detrained, the station it were on the sea front back then. I were still in me uniform, caked with the mud of Flanders fields, I still had, Bert's blood on me trousers and jacket! I lived with me mum and dad in Hearson road, Bert, family lived in St. Luke's Avenue, just down from the Church. I gave a lad a shilling, to take my kit to me, though already sent them a letter, from France. I passed the curtain's drawn window.

With a heavy hart I lifted up the doorknocker. Let the knocker, down, I heard it sound, to me it sounded proper loud. No one at first came to answer my knocking. So I knocked again, at last the door opened, there stood Bert's - sister.
'' Oh it is you then!'' ''Why are YOU standing there -why aint our Bert!''.
She shut the door in my face! I when off to me mums and dads house.
ken d williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith

Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-11-16 at 13:13

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The horeible truth of war has traditionally been kept on the war field and sanitized for the family who are already in so much. grief.

Nevertheless, the painful, dirty, and ugly truth of violent death ia something that a soldier should see and hear about before enlisting. There is no glory in war. It's all an invention of leaders to gain importance at the sake of our young and fittest.

Thank yoi for writing this.

So sorry about losing your friend, ken. Some
really get hurt in wars. It's terrible it has to
happen. Wish there were no wars.