By Mark Weeks

To hell with King & country,

As storm clouds loom and loom.

Just carry on as normal, so the powers boom.

Yet, off we go to fight, so young and raw.

Thus, begun my story of the Great War.

To hell with King & country

Ain’t done nothing for me.

Cousins of cousins argue,

They aren’t my family.

To hell with King and country.

Home of the brave and free.

Assembling guns, humping bags,

Digging trenches and poncing fags.

To hell with King & country.

Let’em live beside me.

Through burning eyes comes the first attack.

Shells bursting all around, stoically we hold’em back.

To hell with King & country.

How can I let my faith see?

In Flanders mud I tried my best.

Where now, my battered body rests.

We died for king and country.

Why? Who knows completely.

But they said in war victory lies.

Whilst ignoring sixteen million goodbyes.                            

In memory of every soldier, in every war.

Of every nationality, of every creed who lost the chance to live their lives.

So, you could live yours freed.

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@CodeoftheConqueror on Facebook

By email at mark@urconqueror.co.uk