UNCLE STAN’S WAR POETRY I got a letter from the son and daughter in law of my Uncle Stan in Oz yesterday. They’ve been going through some of Stan’s papers and have sent a lot to the museum at Canberra but saved some poems written originally by Stan in the trenches during WW1. [HUGHES, WILLIAM MORRIS (1862-1952), Australian prime minister, was born on 25 September 1862 at Pimlico, London, son of William Hughes, a carpenter from North Wales employed at the Houses of Parliament, and his wife Jane, née Morris. His father was Welsh speaking, a deacon of the Particular Baptist Church and a conservative in politics. His mother, a farmer's daughter from Llansantffraid, Montgomeryshire, who had been in service in London, was English speaking and Anglican. She was thirty-seven when she married, and William Morris was her only child.] The freedom of the cities of England Have been conferred on Billy Hughes In exchange for a slavery called conscription That he would try to impose on you I see Billy is off to London To misrepresent us once again The best Australia wishes him is That he may there forever remain He kids he is high and mighty But he will get an awful jolt When he comes a cropper Because he has shot his bolt. (undated) 00000000000000000000 Dedicated to the memory of Corporal Charles Bourke. 3rd Battalion, 1st Brigade AIF who was killed in action in France 21st July 1916. [Coral thinks that this bloke was Uncle Stan’s brother in law because Alan had a cousin by the same name who was killed fighting the Japanese in WW2] He was but a youthful warrior Honourable, steadfast and brave He fought for Liberty and Justice And paid the penalty in a hero’s grave He was loved and revered by his family Who deeply mourn the loss of the one they held so dear But the cause for which he gave his life Will cause the shedding of many a tear In years to come, his family Will recall with honour and pride The memory of the soldier boy Who bravely fought and died We fully admire the principle For which he gave his life And died for the cause of freedom In this bloody and deadly strife He was one of the many who fought to uphold The traditions of the British race And now he is sleeping the sleep of a hero Some other will take his place In distant lands so far away They are heroes one and all Who freely give their life’s blood At their country’s call And when the strife is over And the men return once more May we uphold the principles They fought for in this war (S G McDonald. Originally written 1st August 1916) 000000000000000000 Reminiscences of the Past November28th 1916. S G McD. You remember the days of our childhood When we were free from all troubles and care When we tramped through the scrub and the wildwood And hunted the rabbit, the rat and the hare We chased them o’er hills and through valleys With never a thought for the blisters or pain Which was caused by the stones and the thistles Bruising and scratching our feet again and again We have shared each joy and each pleasure We have fought and been friends all in one Ah it gives me great pleasure to remember The joys and the times that are gone You remember the fight in the cowyard Over a question on which we could not agree When Mother stepped in with a Quince stick And decided to act referee 0000000000000000000 8th December 1916. S G McD Behold Australia rallies to The standard of the free To fight for Britain’s honour And defend our liberty Fight on, fight on Australia’s sons May we be ever free ‘Twere better to die before the guns Than to Germany bend the knee Your heroic deeds we will cherish ‘Mongst the bravest of the brave That we may never perish You have sought in a hero’s grave You have nobly upheld the traditions Of the race from which we came In the annals of our history You have carved a glorious name May Australia recompense you For the deeds that you have done And from hunger and poverty guard you When the victory is won You are worthy of a better fate Than to beg upon the street And may vengeance overtake us If the past we should repeat So please accept these verses From my humble pen To you I raise my hat with honour You have fought and died like men May good luck always attend you Wherever you may go May God’s loving hand defend you When you face the foe Farewell 000000000000000000 (Undated) Well old fellow, glad to see you, fancy meeting you around! Aint it luck to come across you in a transport homeward bound Guess a liner couldn’t travel fast enough for me you know Don’t you think she simply dawdles, aint the engines running slow France is just a bit unhealthy when the shells are bursting near While the vicious German bullets come a-whizzing past your ear! When the squelchy trenches gather all the mud in Sunny France And you leave your boots behind you as you struggle to advance Someone will be glad to see me when we reach the other side Somebody will run to meet me with a smile of loving pride How her eyes will shine and sparkle like the sunshine on the sea And her lips will give the message that they always hold for me (Bless her heart) she’s worth the hardships, worth the danger and the pain When there’s one who waits and watches till my ship returns again That is land before us surely? We are heading for it fast Look man, Look! It’s England – England! We are home again at last. ____________ .. __________ .. ____________ [Transcribed SCG 15 June 2008]
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk
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