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HE MADE LAUGH (WORLD WAR ONE)

Now me and Bob , we became best chums
Right from the second we met
He was from right up North , me right down south
We found kind of hard to under stand each other
But some how that was all right by us

We took the piss out of each other , somert rotten
Stuff any one else! they , soon regretted it!
And how!
During training Bob , would whisper a piss take of
Our Sargent , who was not amoustde! Not 'appy at all!
Only I'd catch it what he said , I'd laugh , I could stop me self
I'd just brake out of line laughing , try as I could I could not stop
I would have to full out , holding me sides , I'd be in so much pain in fits of laughing

Sargent put ME on a charge!
Still you've got to laugh , aint your!

I'd get me own , back , soona or later!

We got sent to France , had not been there long
Me chum , and me, though he called me his pal
When were spotting Jerrys to pop ,
Me chum was a bit of a good shot , he'd wonted to be a sniper
I was looking out , a daft , thing to do , I agree
Me chum was just behind me , ready with his rifle
I heard a crack of rifle bullet
I thought it was me chum so I said '' you missed , him , Bob ''
Bob, did not reply , I look around , only to see the wall of the trench
I notest , a red splosh , with what look like to me tapioca with strawberry jam
Sliding down the trench wall , like me old mum slaming me dads Sunday dinner
Against the wall
Funny what you think of at such times , aint it
No Bob , I looked down , saw , me chum , laying there
Top of his head was gone , shot off , his brains , lay , bear , fly's , already Gathering

I , bent down , held him to be , tears , ran down my checks
We laid , Bob on a stretcher , cared him away , dug his grave
Laid Bob in his grave , said a few words , made a marker , with his name
A stray shell , soon put pay to his grave

I was never to laugh no more

Ken D Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith

Poetry by ken d williams