The Survivor
In memory to-night I'm on Flanders' front
Where poppies, blood-red, swayed
To the guns, and the drums, and the marching feet
of a million men — betrayed!
And I'm talking once more with old comrades — pals
Whose bodies have long been dust.
How firm was their faith that war would end!
Great God! — was it just — was it just?
Brief was their span, but their day's dying sun
Left haloes of glory anon;
'Midst unfurling flags, and screeching of shells
Their brave young souls marched on.
And now, though but half-way along life's rough road,
I feel the cruel pressure of years,
For my youth went out with the old brigade
On that futile tide of tears.
And while their blithe spirits are hov'ring to-night
Over old familiar heaths,
Where, entangled and gassed in a hell of mud,
They died a thousand deaths.
I thank God they're beyond the maddening truth
That War makes man its fool,
And will stalk abroad o'er a prostrate world
Till sovereign Love shall rule!
Mrs. Amabel King, 1934
This book is dedicated to the brave Canadian women who sought to share their voices in a time of great conflict and social upheaval, and in doing so cast the experience of war in a different light.
Special thanks to my dearest friends scooby-snacks and LoveVincitOmnia, without whom I would not have been able to complete this opus. Their keen eyes and enthusiastic support have been invaluable.
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Days
Historical FictionAn exploration of the impact of the First World War on Canadian women explored through letters. "I am a believer in women, in their ability to do things and in their influence and power. Women set the standards for the world, and it is for us, women...
