He's past eighty now
And he's partially blind
But by and large passing years
Have been reasonably kind.
He walked with a stick
Longer distances used a chair
And he sat and he chatted
As though he hadn't any cares.
But he still recalled the horror
Of that near forgotten Korean War
Sometimes as he talked you
Felt he was back there once more,
Experiencing those attacks
Dead and wounded piled up high
But some how he survived
Their every single try.
He told with disdain of being
Part of the Honor Guard
For the once enemy leader
After a campaign, we’d fought hard.
Nearly every week he’d visit
I think it became a part of his day,
For a cuppa and a chat
Then be off on his way.
He'd fill the place with laughter
As some people can
I found inspiration from
This kind and cheerful man.
As do often happens
We sadly lost touch
For I retired from the Centre
Didn't call in there very much.
I hope he's still with us,
The world will be a sadder place
If he's moved on and we've lost
That young old smiling face.
A gent of the old school
Who lived his life well
Conquered his fears
And survived his taste of Hell.
