Local Poetry

Dedicated to my Grandad HAROLD HOLLAND

I never knew my Grandad
He died aged twenty three
So not much information
Was passed down on to me

He had a job he used to love
A new baby and young wife
Then a letter arrived that fatefull day
Which was to change his life

The First World War by this time
Had been raging for three years
So the arrival of this letter
Confirmed his family's fears

The Army said it needed him
To show they were still strong
No time for any training
It all seemed very wrong

He was then sent out to Ypres
To the trenches he was led
With other young lads beside him
What thoughts had run through their head

They must have fought for their very lives
But what chance did they stand
In that God forsaken battle field
That was known as "NO MANS LAND"

I pray he didn't suffer
But why did he have to die
In the Bloody battle of Passchendaele
On the Thirty First Day of July