By 24th November 2014December 9th, 2019No Comments

Yesterday I thought back to the week I spent away.
A week in which I had a wreath of poppies I had to lay.
I was there to remember a lady, who had sacrificed her life,
A wonderful, loving mother, my soul mate and my wife.
Before that Sunday morning, I had some time to spare,
So I made a tour of London, seeing Harrods and Trafalgar Square,
But the sight that took my breath away, and was full of love and power,
Was the amazing display of poppies that surrounded The London Tower.

That sight took me straight to my mission, and the reason I was in town.
To remember that fabulous young woman, that the Taliban took down.
She went out to Afghanistan, like all the troops that were by her side,
To make a better life for the people, and a future for them to decide.
She was there to nurse the injured, and help them, British and others alike,
And her final hours came after a call to help a trooper hurt in a dyke.
There was no brave heroic warrior, that faced her and shot her in a fight,
Just a coward who hid in the bushes, who watched her die while out of sight.

She rushed out with armed support, the situation to assess,
And the poor chap she was there for, was, sadly in quite a mess.
After doing as much as she could, two men carried him back to the base,
As she stood to return with the party, the blast hit her in the neck and the face.
Her colleagues sped back out to help her, but her injuries were very bad,
And although they did all that they could, their return to base was so sad.
Two tours to that hell were successful, she helped many through terrible pain,
But third time for her was unlucky, now, sadly, she’ll help no-one again.

So I marched with thousands of people, whose tales were so much like my own,
They say the sun shines on the righteous, and that day it certainly shone,
As the man took my wreath and placed it, my heart filled up with pride
Even though I had lost someone so special, I felt really warm inside.
Farewell my dearest beloved, yet another Angel is born,
And I know when you look down from heaven there won’t be a look of scorn,
You are leaving your loving family, and re-joining some wonderful friends,
As they stand on parade to welcome you, take the love we, your family, sends.

Phil German

Author Phil German

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