Poem - Invasion

My father carried this poem on a rough piece of paper,written in pencil,inside his wallet from his time serving in WW2.
He died a number of years ago and mum and I have often wondered who wrote this poem.

Invasion

No sound was heard on that cold grey morn
When the life of France was once more born
No bugler played his victory note
Just a lap of a wave against the boat
Swiftly silently on we spun
At last the great day had begun
We peered and watched with bated breath
Watched what we all knew might mean death
Our hearts stood still, the air grew tense
Who could endure this cold suspense?
Then with France within our reach
We softly slid upon the beach
I grasped my rifle in my hand
And softly crawled along the sand
I prayed to God then felt secure
With his strength I could endure
With the coming of the dawn
We all assembled and marched on
Victims of this circumstance
Yet liberators of mighty France
With one mad charge we cleared the hun
Watched him, scorned him, saw him run
And then upon that secene so gory
The sun shone with all its glory
Shone upon the place we stood
Shone on rivers red with blood
Our hearts were lifted high with pride
We knew that god was on our side
Now we'll fight with never a care
Fight in the fields, fight in the air
Fight in the mountains and on the sea
Fight for God and for victory

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