A Letter Home

I left home at seventeen to fight for King and country,
I signed up to a hero's welcome and proudly marched away,
We departed with pride in our hearts, sure we'd be home by Christmas.
The Hun was an easy catch, at least that's what they told us,
But reality soon set in and brought us down to earth.
And now, here, in a foreign land, I wonder what it's worth,
Finding space among the rats and lice and all the mud and mire.
It's cold out here in winter time; we can't even light a fire.
And the Hun is a formidable foe, not such an easy catch,
Many of us have already expired trying to meet his match.
But tell me, how are things at home? They can't be as bad as this,
Is papa still proud of me? Give mama a kiss.
Tell all the others I love them and miss them very much,
But for God's sake, John, promise me you won't sign up.
I know you see me as a hero and want to be like me,
But there's no glory over here, just death and misery.
We go over the top tomorrow on another big push forward,
Pray for me, John, pray for my soul, as I fear the worst.
If I should go down tomorrow to a bullet from the Hun,
Remember me forever, remember what I've done.
And if by chance, another war should start while you're still young,
Please promise me you won't sign up, it won't win you anything.
Before I finish off this letter, I have one more thing to say,
If you never hear from me again, you'll know what's happened to me.
Tell mama I still love her, and papa to be proud,
And I will meet you all in heaven, when your turns come around.