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Junior Member
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Lest you Forget I feel your shadow pass over me as you meander these silent fields, but don’t pass me by sir for I am your present. “Look at me”, I am Tommy Atkins sir, lying in silence as you preamble, wondering what you may do with your tomorrows. I once had such tomorrows, but then before hair had grown on my chin it was Tommy this and Tommy that then Tommy’s gone. Tommy lies with his comrades beneath these neat rows of white stone so that you may pontificate your tomorrows, yet you wallow in your own self indulgences as you pass by, not even bothering to read my name. Don’t feel sorrow for me sir, I am gone, I am but a remnant of what once was, youth and dreams. I have done my duty. No more could you ask of me because I have done for you, but now, ask of yourself what can you do for me. “Lest We Forget”, ah how easy that falls from “your” tongue, but “you have forgotten sir”. You have forgotten Tommy Atkins and his ghostly army. You have forgotten how we writhed in agony clutching our torn limbs, as if to pull them back together in the mud and filth of human waste, desperately trying to mend ourselves. “You have forgotten”, our choking screams for our mothers, as our blood is crushed into the forgiving soil by friends who blindly rush past, afraid to look upon Tommy, for fear that Tommy has caught some terrible disease that they might be smitten with if they see poor Tommy’s pain. But they also fall, cut down in their youth like chaff by the scythe of the grim reaper. “You have forgotten”. We never died so that you may give away our green and pleasant land, our England, our little kingdom, our Isle our earth that cradles the dust of our fathers. We died so that you may remember…….. Daniel Lake |
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