WW1 Veteran's Tale

WW1 Veteran’s Tale

First task we faced: so grim, so dire.
Was dragging bodies from the mire.

Born in the year eighteen ninety-four.
Destined to serve in the first World War.
I'd often ask, “What was war like?”
He’d shake his head and say, “Not right.”

“No one should be in such a place,
Where death and sorrow leave their trace.
First task we faced: so grim, so dire.
Was dragging bodies from the mire.”

No tales of glory would he share,
Only silence, heavy with despair.
Yet through the years, his strength was bright,
A Father figure, a steadfast light.

Eight children thrived beneath his gaze,
Their lives are a tribute to his days.
They forged ahead through times untold.
Their roots were firm, their spirits bold.

Upon my aunt’s old mantle high,
A dusty old frame caught my eye.
A clipping from a time gone past,
A tale of courage built to last.

A farmer quiet, kind, and wise,
His war-torn past a mere disguise.
Yet whispers spread and soon I learned,
The truth that deep within him burned.

Buried alive in a trench of stone.
Three days lost and left alone.
His squad all gone, only he survived,
The lone soldier left, yet still alive.

Grandpa never spoke much of pain,
His strength in silence shall remain.
A veteran’s tale, both dark and bright,
A life well-lived. A guiding light.