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To My Unknown Soldier

I hope these help to keep you safe.

Are you lonely at the front?

You have your pals, along the trenches.

And we have ours, inside the factory.

The laughs we have, us girls.

I didn’t mean, that kind of lonely.

 

That’s why I’m slipping my note

inside this box of ammo,

which, I hope, protects you.

It’s funny. Though we’ve never met

and maybe never will, I often

think of the things we’d do.

 

Have you ever been wounded?

It’s what they don’t say

that makes me think you have it hard.

I’m no canary girl, though we have

a few, and some get ill.

I know it’s worse for you boys. 

 

The others say I’m always dreaming.

If you’re home on leave,

please look me up. We could go

to the pictures; if you’d rather,

the park. I’m Florrie Lee (I know,

sounds silly) 15 Gladstone Terrace, Bacup.

First world war

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Comments

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Greg Freeman

Sat 10th Feb 2018 10:46

Hi David, I don't think I saw your comment on this poem at the time. Thank you very much for it, and for sharing your experiences. Best, Greg

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Greg Freeman

Sun 20th Aug 2017 18:37

Thanks for commenting on this, Frances. This poem also appeared on this first world war website https://www.1418now.org.uk/letter/greg-freeman/, along with a picture of my father-in-law's dad and some comrades in the trenches.

Frances Macaulay Forde

Sun 20th Aug 2017 05:24

G'day Greg,
I've decided to read more of your stuff and this is the first today. So glad I did!
Those who have commented already have eloquently expressed my thoughts already, so may I just say; how much I enjoyed this?
I've heard of poems in library books but not notes in munition boxes... so I've also learned something.
Thank you. ?

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pauline sewards

Sun 3rd Aug 2014 00:59

Excellent poem, I enjoyed the voice and the historical authenticity

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 8th May 2014 12:33

A superb contribution that captures poignantly the essence of the period from a particular viewpoint.

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John Coopey

Tue 15th Apr 2014 09:00

Excellent concept, Greg.
I hope she got a queue of lads knocking at her door when they came home.
I'll never pull a Christmas Cracker without hope again.

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Laura Taylor

Mon 14th Apr 2014 11:26

What a great idea for a poem. And beautifully executed too, Greg. So poignant.

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Greg Freeman

Wed 9th Apr 2014 17:19

Thanks, Graham. I stumbled upon this "message in a box of ammo" practice in a book of social history; I had never heard of it before. It was in a section about behaviour between men and women becoming less laced-up during the war. The "canary girls" were those whose skin became yellow as a result of exposure to sulphuric acid in TNT while manufacturing shells; the women workers generally were known as munitionettes.

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Graham Sherwood

Wed 9th Apr 2014 16:29

This is a very charming, poignant and clever reverse on the unknown soldier idea Greg. There's a lot of this stuff on the TV lately, and although I didn't lose a known relative (at least at this point I don't think I have) the thing that captures me is the way that people coped, handled, endured the pressures whichever side they were on.

This is quite lovely, harmless and a totally believable message in a bottle thing.

Well done!

Graham

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