Boy of sixteen, you faced the battles,
duty and conviction being your chattels.
You walked in footsteps of many gone before,
meeting the enemy on some distant shore.
The sights, the sounds and the smell-
endured-must have been a living hell.
Bodies strewn, ravaged, broken in war,
no words could you find for what you saw.
Alongside, together, friend and foe,
your stricken soul you could not show.
Eyes blistered with gas and smoke,
your whole being struggled not to choke.
Albert, you did what was expected of you,
hoping for a better world, healthy and new.
So Grandad this is to acknowledge all men brave
saying thank you for the blood and tears you gave.
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