The Last Day of War

If you want a copy of my book World War One in Verse, please message me.

This is how I imagined it would have been on November 11th at 11am 1918.

The Last Day of War

I recall that day – the eleventh of November,
We were still fighting hard, that’s what I remember,
Our men were still dying we knew nothing of peace,
that within a few hours this damn war would cease.

Pinned down by machine guns and close to a village,
one lone house remained, unaffected by pillage.
When a runner brought news it came as a shock,
that the war would be ended at eleven o clock.

At precisely eleven the bullets just stopped,
then from enemy trenches, an officer popped,
He took off his helmet bowed low to our troops,
Lined up his men – marched away to great whoops.

There was no sense of vengeance, no need to berate,
Though… temptation to shoot them was still very great,
we were just very grateful for the little we’d got
Like standing up straight without getting shot.

It was pure anti-climax, no emotion remained,
four horrifying years and little was gained,
The Allies had victory but at a great cost,
I thought of my comrades – good friends I had lost.

We were all too exhausted, too tired to enjoy,
awaited our orders to perhaps redeploy,
No cheering – no singing, no alcohol at all,
But a time to be thankful – we’d not heard God’s call.

Eric Harvey 07/11/2020