Evoking punctured bag whilst draining sand
My Brother’s blood now seeps from scarlet mess
To stem the flow I have but one free hand
Tho maim’d myself, his wound I must compress
For each to other’s all we have to cleave
‘In dire straits’ of that there is no doubt
No thought ‘twixt friends that one should take ‘French Leave’
Our only aim, survive and tough it out
This sorry plight wouldst ne’er give credence to
When setting off for foreign climes unknown
With youthful verve intact, we bade adieu
To ‘Blighty’ and the place we both called home
Of ‘Green and Pleasant Land’ no more we’ll see
Yet proud am I to share eternity