by William Roe | Feb 11, 2025 | Poetry
They call it a village, it looks like hell, Buildings destroyed by bomb and shell, Smouldering wood and acrid fumes, A greyness over everything looms. There’s mud everywhere under foot, Mixed with rain, earth and soot, The heady smell of death everywhere, A misty...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Poetry
We enlisted, signed up, didn’t make a fuss Singing Tipperary we marched off to war, Days of glory ahead were all that we saw. Little did we know of what lay ahead, A man-made place full of death and dread Where heroes stood and cowards fell, There in that stinking...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Poetry
I’ve been away at the war, Things are not the same anymore, I don’t sleep well at night, I hear comrades crying out in fright. It’s not what I dreamt about at the front, I’m sorry, but I have to be blunt, I thought of the home that once I knew, While the bombs and...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Stories
Mud. Mud and rain. Mud, rain and noise. This is my whole life now, along with the stench. I’ve lost count of how long I’ve been here now. Occasionally there’s a bit of activity between us and the Hun. Otherwise there’s little change. We all stink, we’ve been in our...
by William Roe | Dec 20, 2024 | Stories
The slap of running feet was muffled by the dawn mist that was settling over the airfield. Airmen ground crew and officers alike ran towards the stricken Hurricane that had landed short of the dispersal area later than the rest of B wing flight. The sound of barking...
