SOLDIERS LAMENT By Pat Townsend Reprinted here by the kind permission of Pat Townsend, daughter of Reg Wilks Did you think often of Flackwell In that bloody, muddy trench? Did you long for the smell of new-mown hay In that putrid battle stench? Did you long to be dribbling down the wing As you dodged the enemy fire? Did you wish you could hear valley churchbells ring And the sweet clear song of the choir? Did you think of Flackwell often As you went up over the top? Did you long to climb up Treadaway Hill Refreshed by Ma's tupenny pop? Did you wonder as you were dying If we'd remember you still? If your mates in the first eleven Would miss your shooting skill? If they'd miss your tail-end batting And your sneaky googly bowl If the choir would miss your strong clear voice Or the pubs your wit so droll. Did you think you fought for freedom In that "War to end all Wars"? Or did you suspect that your sons would fight For that same old noble cause? Did they think often of Flackwell As they flew in that sky so blue? Did they think of the Spring in Fennels Wood Those gay and gallant "few"? Did they think often of Flackwell In those great grey ships on the sea? Did they long for the bright clear Flackwell air And the wind in the cherry tree? Did they think often of Flackwell In those tanks in the desert sand? Did they long for a chat in The Tips or Stag A pint of beer in their hand? And if there's a life hereafter Do they think of Flackwell still? Do they pray with us that there'll always be Peace in our homes on the hill? Back to New Heathens Walk If you have a story you'd like to add to this page please  to tell us about it.