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Gloucester RSL Sub-branch to hold Remembrance Day service

Gloucester RSL Sub-branch is holding a Remembrance Day service on Thursday November 11 at the Gloucester Memorial Park clocktower.

Gloucester RSL Sub-branch is holding a Remembrance Day service on Thursday November 11 at the Gloucester Memorial Park clocktower.

Why we wear a poppy (excerpt Don Crawford poem)

Please wear a poppy, the lady said,

And held one forth, but I shook my head.

Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there.

Her face was old and lined with care.

But beneath the scars the years had made,

There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,

Bouncing along on care-free feet.

"Lady , said he , may I have one?'

When she'd pinned it on he turned to say,

"Why do we wear a poppy today?"

The lady smiled in her wistful way

And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,

And the poppy is the symbol for

The gallant men who died in the war,

And because they did, you and I are free.

I had a boy about your size

With golden hair and big blue eyes.

He loved to play and jump and shout

Free as a bird he would race about.

As the years went by he learned and grew

And became a man, as you will too.

When war broke out and he went away

I still remember his face that day.

"I'll be back soon Mum so please don't cry"

But the war went on and he had to stay,

And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight,

I can see it still in my dreams at night.

Till at last the war was won

And that's why we wear a poppy, son.

The small boy turned as if to go,

"Thanks lady I'm glad to know

"That sure did sound like an awful fight

" But your son - did he come back all right?"

A tear rolled down each faded cheek

She shook her head, but didn't speak.

And so when we see a poppy worn

Let us reflect on the burden borne

By those who gave their very all

When asked to answer their country's call.

That we, in peace, may see the sun

Please wear a poppy, it says "Well done".

Mates (excerpt Duncan Butler 8th Division POW poem)

You'd slip and slither through the mud; And curse your rotten fate; But then you'd 'ear a quiet word; "Don't drop your bundle, mate"; An though it's all so long ago; This truth I have to state; A man don't know what lonely means; 'till he's lost his mate; If there's a life that follows this; If there's a "Golden Gate"; The welcome I want to 'ear; Is just "Good on yer, mate"; An so to all who ask why; We keep these special dates; Like ANZAC day, I answer; "Why, we're thinking of our mate." An' when I've left the drivers seat; An' 'anded in me plates; I'll tell old Peter at the door; I've come to join me mates".