Thanks, Private Norfolk

Dear Reader

So many words have been written about wars and their consequences by others far better qualified than I am.   So I just thought I would write a word or two about my own father.  He fought in the First World War as a major serving with the Royal Army Service Corps.  He was three times mentioned in Dispatches, and I have a letter written in January 1916 congratulating my grandparents, from a Colonel Harrison and other Officers, on their son's distinguished conduct and gallantry.  So today I am thinking of you, Dad, and am thanking you for doing your bit, and am sending you my love.

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Thanks, Private Norfolk


You left singing, with your pals,
marching for good and glory.
You hadn't yet dug a trench,
killed an unknown soldier,
seen dead bodies, smelt their stench,
heard comrades' last sickening cries.

You gave your life with generous heart,
believed the lies
dispatched by loftier ranks.
And so to you, dear Private Norfolk,
I give my salute,
and my deepest thanks


for swapping your mauve rain-skies,
your white-breast beaches, and beckoning sea,
your level fields of ripening corn,
to fight in foreign fields, for us,
for me.


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Very best wishes,  Patricia