Sam had joined up one morning Though his name would not remain Sam His sergeant would call him many things but it changed once the fighting began A few would call him a hero But two would call him their son No-one would ever call him daddy Not once the fighting’s begun An easier life than back home, he’d read Within weeks he’d be marching through France A boy with a gun is a man they’d said just point it and shoot to advance The enemy eat babies they’d told him He believed them and why should he not? He was perfectly willing to take the kings shilling But soon his would wish he had not. The fields of France were no picnic What with the bullets and all But the enemy ate babies they’d told him And he believed, as he watched his friends fall The trenches were cold wet and miserable The bullets flew thick night and day The shelling was constant and terrible And peace was a long dream away It would all be over by Christmas That’s what they told them back home but home was not here and they could not hear the screams and the bombs and the fear As parts of his friends fell about him The screaming of all filled his ears Sam prayed to his God to spare him Or at least make it all dissapear A dignified death was denied him But death indeed he did gain And Sam was just one amongst many To die in the mud with his name John Doe he is now amongst thousands And thousands of comrade in arms Row upon row upon row upon row Upon row upon row of Johns Doe. |