by | Apr 6, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

With singing in their hearts and coal dust in their veins,
The hardy Rhonda miners came aboard the crowded trains,
They came altogether, father, brother, uncle, son,
Called to the Colours, to fight the dreaded Hun.

From Powys and from Gwynedd that bounds Caernarfon Bay,
Came the fishermen and hill men to join into the fray,
They found themselves in regiments sung of by the bards,
The Welch and the Borderer’s and His Majesties Welsh Guards.

Four long years of hardship was taken in their stride,
And the Welshmen fought together to add to Britain’s pride,
But victory when won is costly, and many a young bride,
Was left with only memories, no husband at her side.

So when as oft in peacetime a Taffy you despise,
Remember that in Flanders, he was a hero in your eyes.

Ich Dien


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