Dug this out from a couple of years ago. Seems poignant now!
His name was Uncle Jack
He complained about his back
And smelled of liniment and ginger
He sat me on his knee when I was only three
And told me tales of the royal house of Windsor
The kings they eat tea and buns
And the Generals load the guns
For lowly men like Uncle Jack to fire
So come and sit by me although you’re only three
And I’ll sing you hymns you won’t hear from any choir
I was just six and a score
When I was called to that bloody war
To kill the evil Hun or die trying
Buried in the mud and the gas shells they did thud
Around me was the constant wailing of the dying
On one fateful autumn day
In our trench we all did lay
When I heard our captain yell something at me
Look out across the wire where the…
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No Time to Think 