a poem by Gail P. Kay, Australia - poetry writer, author, poet

He’s gone home to be with you now Lord, he lived to be seventy-seven
A good age, some would say, when you called him home to heaven.
He fought for his country Lord, in the desert in world war two
He was a Rat of Tobruk who dug in deep, showing courage through and through.
He was an officer and a gentleman, in everything he did
And he loved the lads who served with him who did as they were bid.
He’d meet the patrols with a mug of rum on the cold nights as they came in;
He bent the rules if he thought it would give some comfort to his men.
He was a soldier Lord, who grieved when one of his young men fell,
But he held it deep inside his heart for there was no one he could tell.
But he carried their memories for the rest of his life, buried deep within his mind,
Knowing they’d made the ultimate sacrifice for peace within our time.
You said that greater love no man has than he who lay down his life for his friend
And I hope they were there to greet him, his courageous forgotten men;
Because I have a feeling that if they didn’t he would have gone searching far and wide,
That he’d muster them, saying
“ Look sharp now lads, get yourselves in stride!”
He’d march them through those pearly gates right up to the Father’s throne
Salute with reverence and say with pride “ Lord the Rats are safely home!”


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