A Soldier in the Etaples’ War Cemetery
By Bethany Ferguson, age 11, from Banbury

As I look at his gravestone today,
I think, why did he have to pay?
He was out there, fighting, trying to save,
And now today, I look at his grave.

He was my brother!

I did not bring him up that way,
I taught him how to share and play.
But then he went and joined the Force.
I cried for him, but he’s dead of course.

He was my son!

He was my loved one, we were together
I only hoped it would be forever.
He went away, on our wedding day
And with his life he went to pay.

He was my husband!

He came to me, a lad of eighteen,
I built him up to be a fighting machine.
He was fearless, strong and brave,
But that did not save him from his grave.

He was a valiant soldier!

They were brave to go and fight for their land
Though many perished on the sand.
They went to fight on my decree
Though their homeland they’d never see.

I am a politician!

I went to war; they said it was cool,
Who’d have thought I was the fool!
They didn’t go. They didn’t see,
The blood, the horror, the misery.

Now I’m in Etaples’ hospital tent
My legs blown to pieces, my body all bent,
I wonder as I’m dying across the sea,
WILL MY COUNTRY REMEMBER ME?

I am a soldier in the Etaples’ war cemetery!

In Weekender