WW1. The Army is Recruiting.

In 1914, the Army was visiting

Villages, looking for strong young

Lads. Necessary, for the War Effort.

They had to be strong lads, with a

Certain height and chest measurement.

Selecting the Villages best.

Parents happily signed forms.

Their son was ‘Doing his bit.’

Excited sons, looking forward to going.

The day came, A Band arrived to lead

The teenaged sons away from home.

Proud boys followed the band.

Trains took boys to camp,

For Basic Training. Officers taught

The boys to March and to ‘Know their place.’

Wearing new but ill-fitting Uniforms, nervous

New Recruits wondered what awaited

Across the English Channel in France.

‘It will be over by Christmas.’

Rang in their ears, anxious now,

Of thoughts of all left behind.

Landing in France, then marching,

Marching into the War Zones.

Bolstering up each other’s courage.

They cannot have imagined what

War was, or meant. The tree-less

Countryside, the Trenches and noise.

Going forward to Front Lines, to go

‘Over the top!’, their fears, the smell.

The knowledge that this day could be a last.

Death, destruction, demoralised and

Distressed boy soldiers remembered

Mum’s dinners and apple pie.

Unable to cope with the lack of comfort,

Some poor distraught boys ran away.

Not meaning to desert but getting out.

The sick and frightened children were

Captured, returned to base, tried and

Sentenced to be Shot at Dawn.

Officers chose their Pals or colleagues

To join the Firing Squads and pull the triggers.

The Order was given, Bang! A boy dies.

Of those boys left behind, hopes and spirits

Die too, never to rise again. This War, that

Begun as an adventure turned to destruction.

What did the once proud parents and

Villagers feel like when they were

Informed the Village boys were

Shot at Dawn,

For Cowardice or Desertion.