In the middle of a “brew” reinforcements arrived.
Just twelve young men,we had asked for more,
Casualties had been many that day.
They drank their tea, looked around, smoking.
All so young –Just boys–tomorrow men.
Reading the names on the movement list,
I searched for the one i hoped had not come.
Then i saw him,no need to ask his name.
His likeness so marked, they had to be brothers.
The one now dead, unable to greet the other.
As i searched for words with which to tell him,
I thought of the mother in Wales,not yet grieving,
For she could not yet know of her elder son’s death.
Probably thinking with pride of her sons together,
Each taking care, looking after the other.
I had crept down the hedge, and carried him back.
His killers now too lay dead,where he had died.
And now i must tell his young brother all.
The boy who came to be with his brother,
And in just a few minutes would grow into a man.