www.legionnl.ca 175 Lest We Forget - Volume 16 e Eleventh Hour, on the Eleventh Day Of the Eleventh Month, so history say, e war of wars came to an end, And the endless stories then were penned. For just four years, how much was said, Of the raging battles, and the fallen dead, Of heroism of the fallen men, And the courage shown again and again. Where the trenches reeked of mud and filth, So detrimental to the health, Where the bullets whizzed, and the shells went by, And the living wonder, who next would die. But onward they went, those khaki clad boys, As the wounded fell, and the dying died, e living screamed, they cursed, they prayed, e price was high, but it was paid. For every yard on each plain and hill, ey stood they fought, they fought they fell, e righteousness might, forever shine, On the land of theirs, of yours, of mine. How much braver can any one man be, an to lay down his life, for you and me, Like Christ on his cross, he answered his call, For peace to the world, and good will to all. So just for a moment, let us standstill, And gaze at that trench, that plain, that hill, ere we can visualize the bravest of the brave, Where the monument was erected, On that unknown soldiers grave. ey lie in the soil; it’s theirs by right, Won by their courage, and their might, A place of freedom is ours, but yet, IT’S THEIRS BY RIGHT; LEST WE FORGET. John omas White A Tribute
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