- Contributed by听
- 大象传媒 Radio Foyle
- People in story:听
- a poem by a 12 year old boy in 1939
- Location of story:听
- Lincoln Memorial School, Beragh, Co Tyrone,Northern Ireland
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A7164740
- Contributed on:听
- 21 November 2005
This is the final page of Billy Foster's poem - it shows that even young boys were avidly watching everything that was going on in the war from the very beginning. This poem was written on the 7th of November 1939 and is published here with the permission of PRONI.
This poem was found in between the leaves of an old register by archivists from the Public Records Office in Northern Ireland.The register was from the Lincoln Memorial School.The poem is by Billy Foster and was written in november 1939
War
Britannia is at war again,
To put Herr Hitler down
And many of both armies,
Lay dead upon the ground.
The aeroplanes high overhead,
Fought on above the troops,
While many of the Germans,
They lay about in groups.
They knew the british soldiers
Were going to win the war,
But Hitler ruled them over,
With a hand like an iron bar.
The war began on a Sunday,
twas a wet and stormy day,
But how could it be otherwise
With such sad news on the way.
At last the poles were beaten,
But only for a while,
till the allies get their sleeves rolled up,
and return the country mile by mile.
The wireless gives us all the news
About the war in France,
How many soldiers lose their lives,
Bravely fighting in a trench.
The Germans have the U-boats,
But they are helpless now,
Against the British convoy,
As all nations doth allow,
To sail in enemy waters
Or round the british coasts,
So the Germans cannot do much now,
And haven't much to boast.
So adieu to all agression,
And all that is not true,
The Furer shall be punished,
And Marshall Goerings too.
Billy foster 7-11-39
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