In the great War, there was much men saw,
Not all could cope or comprehend,
In front of a firing squad they met their end.
Shellshock not cowardice got them shot
By 1945, many managed to stay alive,
But maimed mentally or physically they would never again drive,
Younger than you are now,
They relived sights, sounds and smells most foul.
Many more lost all they had,
Would never live to see sight go bad,
Grey hair would never grow,
Waking dreams they would not know,
Filled with fear, panic and woe.
Modern times have known conflict and war,
Support for survivors is still woefully poor,
Burnt, troubled victims from islands far south of here,
Live day to day with bouts of fear.
Eastern Europe, or Africa, all around,
All the places tommies can be found,
Sand and wind or sunny places,
So many lost, so many young faces.
In the forces, the young rapidly become old,
Accepted into the military fold,
But there are to many who will be forever young,
Lost because of a bomb, mine or gun.
Of the ones left behind,
Peace is something they never find,
Nightmares and images haunt them still,
At night and during the day they feel a chill.
There are many names for what they have got,
Combat stress reaction, battle fatigue, Shell shock,
Posttraumatic stress disorder, Gulf war Syndrome,
These are the long lasting affects they take home.
Forever these brave soldiers will roam
but if our country does its duty, never alone
They need our support and respect,
Not our scorn, dismissal or Neglect