A Lancashire lad , a dapper chap, out with his pals for a stroll
Cane in hand, he’s a stylish young man, but ready to answer the call.
When Kitchener pointed that finger and he urged them to go to war,
They all joined up and off they went not knowing what they were in for.

My grandfather’s stature being a little bit short, he was put in the Bantam Brigade.
They gave him a job carrying messages from the front to where officers stayed.
A dangerous job running to and fro, a target for snipers to shoot
But you don’t get a choice when the army says do, or else you get more than the boot!

I don’t know whether he legged it, or was given a motorbike to ride,
But one bad day his luck ran out, he got shot and nearly died.
They sent him back home to Blighty to patch him up if they could,
But being a proud lad, when his arm had to go, he dug in his heels and said no!

That wasn’t his best decision, but sometimes our pride lets us down
And later he discovered he made the wrong choice when back in his home town.
Now, while he was convalescing, his life was improved for a while
He met a young girl , who brightened his days and had such a winning smile.

Needless to say they got married, though sadly their happiness was marred.
His injuries continued to plague him and working in pain was so hard.
A daughter they had, a lively young thing but sadly, they couldn’t stay
My grandfather died. His wounds took their toll. My grandmother faded away.

My mother was raised by her uncle and aunts, never knew her mum and her dad.
But happiness aplenty filled that home and what a good childhood she had.
And she looked back with fondness on her childhood and youth
And never forgot, that’s the truth.