I recently found a poem in my emails going to and fro between my Dad and aunts and uncles. I was about to delete it, thinking it was more of the family reunion stuff that we had all attended recently.
I am glad I didn't.
Instead I got to learn quite a bit about a very wonderful man.
I asked my Dad to tell me more about Grandpa Willis (my Great Grandfather) and this poem.
This is what he said (he didn't know he would be being blogged!)
Grandpa Willis was a very quiet and humble man and I feel sure he would have recognised the author of this poem if it wasn’t him. Also, if it was a copy you’d think there’d be another version somewhere but I have shown it to various people who love war history and none have seen it before.
We found the poem in Grandpa’s old trunk after he died. There he kept his War diary (in which was a well preserved poppy from the Western Front) which we all knew about but the poem wasn’t known about then.
Grandpa was always loath to talk about the War – he felt it was a stupid and senseless waste of life. He was wounded in one of the major battles there and as kids we were always fascinated by the piece of shrapnel that they dug out of him back in England where he recovered, and the scar in his side from the operation.
I’m a bit of a fan of the history of the Western Front and the famous part the Aussies played in the eventual victory, they were involved in many heroic battles to turn the Germans back - the town of Amiens was a key to the German hopes of pushing the Allies back to the sea, then crossing the Channel to take England. There was a decisive battle where the Aussies under their own General John Monash using a new and more modern approach to warfare beat and started the eventual retreat of the Germans and this "Key to Amiens" is a proud recollection of that.
Grandpa was wounded in another famous battle, the Battle of Le Hamel which is a village not far from Villiers Brettoneux.
So today I have a treat for history lovers, for those that like poetry, for anyone who likes good writing and all that live a free life thanks to the bravery, courage and ultimate sacrifice of too many.
Lest we Forget.
How Amiens Was Saved
They boasted a front
of granite strength
Which nothing on
earth could shake
The arms and skill of
fifty years
Defied our men to
break.
They bent the
line for forty miles
And flushed with victory
Were pushing on to
Amiens
To drive us to the
sea
Across the smiling
meadows
His columns held
their sway
To the tune of “Rule
Germania”,
And the song of “To
the Day”
When Germania rides
to victory
And the Kaiser doffs
his crown
And the eagle sounds
the trumpet
That “Britain’s
trampled down”.
They roll the Allies
forward
And Amiens is the key
It is the final
flutter
For the channel and
the sea
But now at Villers
Bretoneux
They get a mighty
shock
For the army of
Australia
Is like a piece of rock
Entrenched upon the
plateau
With Amiens in the
rear
Are half trained
rough Australians
Who never knew a
fear.
He made his thrust at
daylight
With the mighty
Prussian Guard
But Australian sons
of British blood
Refused to yield a
yard
And back he came mid
trumpets
And bullets poured
like rain
But our duty was to
hold the line
So we knocked him
back again.
It was the morn of
April
He made his great
attack
With explosive shell
and bullets
They failed to push
us back.
We faced the cruel
bayonets
But put him on the
run
And we won the key to
Amiens
Though they were
three to one
And when the reliefs
took over
We passed back to the
rear
Silent by the fallen
For the price we paid
was dear.
And the people of
Australia
Safe from the slush
and mud
Enjoying a life of
freedom
Away from the stench
of blood
And the mothers of
Australia
Away in the Homeland
dear
Saddened souls of
affection
For a loved ones
distant tear.
They knew not how
they perished
Or how those brave
men fell
That’s why I’ve
penned these verses
The simple facts to
tell.
Many a good and
honest girl
Was struck with a
sudden pain
Longing for her dear
lover
Who’ll never return
again.
Many a bright
Australian child
Wailed at home in
vain
Crying to greet a
soldier Dad
Now numbered with the
slain.
Mothers, fathers and
sisters
Though the salt tears
coursed like rain
Were proud of the
soldier heroes
Whose fight was not in vain.
Many a fine
Australian boy
Caused a mothers
tears
By dying to save
Australia
The land he loved so
dear
Their graves are
scattered o’er the land
And wild flowers
clothe their bed
And springtime’s
scent of glory
Spreads fragrance
o’er the dead
Bright poppies grow beside them
In bloom of scarlet
red
Poppies, blood red
poppies
Wave proudly
overhead.
They’re buried where
they perished
Where death had taken
toll
And drops of blood
have written
A long and glorious
roll
The town boy from the
office
The bush lad from the
plough
The stockman and the
rover
These sleep forever now.
They gave their lives
for Australia
And the German thrust
was checked
And we won the Key to
Amiens
And the Kaiser’s plan
was wrecked
Possibly (Most likely definitely) written by Private Michael Willis, 14th Battalion - 4th Division. Wounded at the Battle of Le Hamel.
