It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.


Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.


Grandads poems (from ww2) x15 in all (posted daily until done) TODAY: 1,2 & 3

page: 1

log in


posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 05:12 AM

When Mussolini boasted of
His great Italian nation,
What trouble he'd have saved if
He'd used some observation.
And instead of shouting 'viva' in
A manner vitriolic,
He'd noticed that his country's shape was
Glaringly symbolic.
But he was much too busy counting
Abyssinian loot, nazi brute,
To notice that his Italy was
Shaped just like a boot!
And now he's paying heavily for
Being both vain and dumb.
For the shape of his own country was
"The shape of things to come."

Written by: Maurice Peter Hathaway
91st britalian - Palestine - 6/4/1944


Three weeks out of port the troopship
Plows its way through heavy seas,
Dame memory has me in her grip,
My soul is sick and ill at ease.
Only three weeks! Ah God it seems
Such eons since we said goodbye.
I see you clearly in my dreams
So clearly- yet as time goes by,
I shall forget they tell me,
My comrade soldiers- and my cry
Of loneliness and pain will be

My love for you will pale
They tell me and be riven.
You will descend into the vale
Of lonely, war- forgotten women.
And I shall find they tell me,
Other lovers, other lips to press,
And in cheap pleasures and debauchery,
Achieve complete forgetfulness. -
If this foul thing should happen,
If what they say indeed be true,
Then love be merely gross, misshapen

If I cannot return and meet
Your gaze steady-eyed, and call
To God upon His judgment seat.
To witness I have practiced no deceit.
Then- I shall not return at all.

Written by Maurice Peter Hathaway
(H.M.T Highland Monarch 10/12/1943


White sails of Dhows on the fast moving stream,
Feathery palm trees and water agleam.
From time immemorial, the Nile thus has been.

White as old ivory, a slim minaret
Pierces the sky and a dim silhouette,
A dance, on the rippling clear water is seen.
From time immemorial, the Nile thus has been.

The hearts blood of Egypt, land of hard strife, God of fertility, giver of life.
Giver of beauty, of plenty- a queen!
From time immemorial the Nile thus has been.

Written by Maurice Peter Hathaway
-(in a train between Helwan camp and Cairo- 21/1/1944)

Hi guys I don't know why I never thought about it before but I'm going to share all the poems my grandad wrote during active service in WW2.

I've always enjoyed these poems. I hope you do too. I will post one a day but just for today, here's three.

(Please bear in mind that I'm on a faulty blackberry curve so my reply's to you guys will be somewhat limited)

Stay tuned for some REALLY good poems.

edit on 10/11/2015 by HD3DSURROUNDSOUND because: (no reason given)

edit on 10/11/2015 by HD3DSURROUNDSOUND because: (no reason given)

posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 05:29 AM
I remember vividly my granddad saying he was sorry for every man he killed because he knew they were like him and had a family and loved ones back home. I was young and stupid and asked him how many people he killed. Forgive me, terrible question to ask. It's very important to know history and get it from 1st hand sources whenever possible. Thank you for posting this beautiful poem. In the worst of times humanity often shines the most brightly I have noticed. It's when we are truly tested.
edit on 11-10-2015 by InfidelCastro because: (no reason given)

posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 06:05 AM
a reply to: InfidelCastro

Thanks. War is stupid. Our grandfathers were brave men.

Welcome to ATS.

posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 07:17 AM
Back when they used to educate young minds, he's probably got a high school level reading and writing.

What beautiful work. Thanks for sharing.

posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 09:22 AM
Very moving and thought provoking. I enjoyed reading them, keep posting!
peace, starched.

posted on Oct, 11 2015 @ 06:55 PM
A journal in verse. Thank you for sharing.

top topics

log in