Tuesday 2 December 2014

It seems like yesterday

                              Air raid shelter built in urban street WW2

I was not yet nine
It seems like yesterday
The war was raging

Poverty was close
Everything was still rationed
Even for small boys

The cupboad was bare 
For we lived from week to week
Nothing stored away

So we kept chickens
Gave them scraps and left overs
So they gave us eggs

School fed us each day
Gave us a bottle of milk
Frozen in winter

Mother had a job
No one to look after us
So we boys ran wild

We roamed the dark woods
Explored derelict buildings
Glorious springtime

In the evening
We sat by the radio
Our entertainment

Bombers flew above
Army convoys filled the streets
Great fun for small boys

So may years have passed
All this is stored in my mind
We have learned nothing

Image found at www.gwydir.demon.co.uk

18 comments:

  1. I haven't experienced war, and I hope I will never experience war.

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    1. Mankind is still an animal when settling differences. I do hope you never experience war too, Romi.

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  2. Two years ago we met with cousins in Germany who ran to bunkers when planes flew over their city in Emden Germany. It was really hard to wrap my mind around my own family being in danger from the war.

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    1. Curiously my own wife cut her face badly when running to a shelter when a schoolgirl.

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  3. I remember those days in the U.S. also. Your memories were right-on. Everything for us was rationed, we lived on a farm that my dad rented so we grew vegetables and meat. No bombers there, it was in the Midwest, but we had black-outs. There were German U-Boats/Subs down here along the Texas coast.
    ..

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  4. A comment not to keep, but your 4th verse reads:
    "So the gave us eggs"
    You probably meant "they gave us
    (We had chickens too, eating and for eggs.)

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    1. Thanks Jim, I don't know "y" that happened!

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  5. Amazing! I loved this poem and all the images it evoked. Also. the ending line. What an observation. Have you read Blackout/All Clear by Connie Willis? It opened a window into London during the blitz that I enjoyed peering into. I wondered if you might have a perspective that was similar or different...since you actually lived it. Or did you? Is this a real memory or a poetic re-creation. Your writing seems so real that I never know.

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    1. Yes, that was really me Lilibeth. My father worked in London during the war and he used to bring home pieces of shrapnel from exploding shells found while doing fire watch on his workplace's roof.

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  6. What great imagery of a time I can only imagine. I love the life of the boys who roamed buildings and dark wood. The ending had a real punch to it too. Thanks for sharing. Have you thought about publishing an e-book? Man I am recommending everyone publish tonight. Just a lot of good writing on the hop. ;)

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    1. Thank you Mary. Yes, I have thought of publishing an e-book but I am sure that would mean I would have to sit still and really work at it!

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  7. This was just excellent, Old Egg, insights of a by-gone war, told from the memories of a child. As the posters used to read back in the 60's, "War is Dangerous to Children and Other Living Things." I still believe that peace is possible, and we do our part to further that ideal by blogging here together, across the continents and around the world. War will never make any sense to me, I question the sanity of those who

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  8. Do you remember the shelter like this that was built in the back garden at Gothic Cottage? Never used as a shelter, but came in handy for games and storing rubbish and garden tools.

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  9. last lines are hard hitting,great

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  10. In spite of its reputation in the States as the "good war," there really is no such thing. I do envy your childhood freedom to roam, though, and I think Western culture suffers from the many constraints on modern childhood. It's hard to learn independence when you can never run free, explore, and solve your own problems.

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  11. Gosh. War & its effects. Moving.
    Sad that little boys still have to spot bombers & fighter-planes...

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  12. It's sad that still there is no learning, hope this message reaches all.

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  13. The last line is sadly true...there are still sweet little boys and girls living the reality of war. Will mankind ever learn?.

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