大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by W. Jewitt of Wakefield Libraries and Information Services on behalf of Elsie and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Eric wrote, "My darling, I've got a weekend leave-
Please Netta come on Friday, see the new stripes on my sleeve!"
Her heart was all a-flutter as she caught the evening train,
It seemed so slow, those miles to go before they'd meet again.

The train stopped short of Sheffield, as bombs came thudding down,
The flashes, flames and gunfire seemed to light up all the town,
The train resumed its journey, cheery army jokes were cracked,
The Bulldog Spirit surfaced and everyone relaxed.

A sailor in the luggage rack, was wakened by the joking,
He told them Hull was flattened now, and what was left was smoking,
The bombs were bad in Swansea, of that there was no doubt,
And then they'd hammered Glasgow, so the Scots don't feel left out!

As Birmingham approached the train stopped, this time in a tunnel,
"We're safer here" the Cockney said "unless they hit the funnel!"
By Coventry the planes had gone, cathedral coughing, dying,
With devastation everywhere and smothered sounds of crying.

Beidecker raids had rained on Bath, historic buildings shattered,
With choking dust the aftermath, of losing all that mattered.
With normal moon in normal sky, the normal stars like crystal,
Train chugged to normal platform in a devastated Bristol.

She walked out to the moonlit street, familiar landmarks gone.
Some people wailed, bemused and shocked by bomb on bomb on bomb.
He saw her, caught her in his arms, the pavement 'neath them trobbing
His love wrapped tight around her, as they stood together sobbing.

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