………We were very proud of our boys,
Every white cross and every grave stone ,every battered body ,every fatherless child and every widowed wife and every lost life …..
…..We were very proud of our boys ,every broken mind , every shell shocked soul ,every firing squad  and every tear shed  .
…. we were very proud of our boys
our glorious dead
We swapped their lives for poppies red
And every monument to wasted lives , tearful parents with blood shot eyes
for king and country one and all  into the mud we watched them fall ….
…….We were very proud of our boys
the lost generation, , the white feathers and humiliation , the big guns pounding  , the never ending , a moments silence that’s just pretending before the big guns roar once again bringing down that deadly rain…
……we were very proud of our boys
The khaki and brass , the lice and the rats , the dysentery, the poison gas , the constant doubt and drowning from the inside out …
……..We were very proud of our boys…as they marched to their graves , home by Christmas , never to be slaves ….……..We were very proud of our boys ….