Axis & Allies - damowords

East Lancashire’s War
ʺGive some fella a gun, ʹees an ʹero,
Give ʹim a conscience, ʹee gets thrown in jail!ʺ
ʺCharlie,ʺ said Rose, ʺI wunt want yer to go!”
ʺNow why would I wanna leave youʺ strain’d wail
Swept down the street
With his next door neighbour,
ʺGet summat on yer feet & go get yer mother!ʺ
Beneath the rugged Hambledon
Marching by the brown canal
They morosely passed thro Hapton
As at some dour funeral
& came at length to Accrington
To hear of their own Pal...
ʹPatrick Sumner has died for his contree.ʹ
The Town Hall notice read small & coldly.
Freda broke down & in her heart
An ache to never die,
Charlieʹs thoughts dart, world wrenchʹd apart,
ʺRevenge! Revenge!” the cry
& raced to add his signature to Genʹral Haig’s supply.
Lancashire
November
1916
Of War & Men
There is a scented season men name Spring,
Air slowly perfumed by a floral spray,
Laburnam, Rhododendrum, blossoming
By little lambs so sylph like in their play;
O pleasant clime,
Days of the Daffodil,
But also times of crime, the urge returns to kill.
Death comes in droves, in droves I say,
Imagine the Bernabau
When Barcelona come to play
& each fan slain... tell me how
Men can allow mankind to slay
His own as tho some cow...
Now to the stadia the Yanks advance,
Their targets are the painted dames of France,
Where Dillinger donʹt give a damn
For his young wife Rita,
A quick wham‐bam, a ʹThank ye mam!ʺ
Five francs ring the meter,
Despite his son was born at home that morn in Jerkwater.
Paris
May
1917