Collections - Poems
Memories of Ypres
By Lance Corporal Herbert Eccles,
about the 1st/5th Battalion, The King’s Own in the “Second Battle of
Ypres” written in Elverdinghe Chateau, 1916.
Memories of Ypres
When we were back in that Sector
Of the Ypres Salient,
It brought back to us sad memories
Of the trails, through which we went.
And of our brave pals who fell there
Answering Duty’s call
But they were the Lancashire Lads sir
Proving themselves soldiers one and all.
We were resting in Ypres Asylum
After a few days at Zonnebeke
We’d had rather a warm time there Sir,
For we lost eighty good lads that week.
But we didn’t get much of a rest here
For Fritz, with his shot and shell
Started turning the place into a shambles
Or, an imitation of Hell.
We were forced to leave our billets
And take to the open fields,
But we soon had our bivvies erected
Down the hedge-sides close to St. Jeans.
We were only here a day or so
Awaiting the enemies next move
And when just getting down for the third night
The order came round to “Stand To”
We heard they had gassed the Turcos
After they’d had to leave their trench,
It was the first time Fritz had used it
But we had an idea what it meant.
Then we heard that the “Gallant Canadians”
had held out midst the gasses stench,
And that they were fighting like blazes
To win back again that lost trench.
We took up a position next morning
Twas April the Twenty Third.
Most of you will remember that morning
Or tis strange if you have not heard.
Of how The King’s Own fought there,
And the Gallant deeds that were done.
I don’t think I’m far wrong If I say here
Though not given, a few V.C.s were won.
We had dug ourselves in on a road-side,
And were waiting our turn to advance.
Fritz sent a few gas shells around us,
Which affected our eyes and made us sort of dance.
Another Battalion of our Brigade then passed us.
It was their turn in the Charge.
They all seemed in quite good spirits
And cracked jokes with us as they passed.
Our turn came about three thirty.
They had given us plenty of grace,
And I don’t think many of the lads realised
The horrors they had to face.
The order came down to “Fix Bayonets”.
Then we filed out of our newly dug trench,
And so soon as we got in the open
Fritz didn’t half give us some shells.
Our Artillery must have been put out of action,
or perhaps it was shortage of shells,
For never a shot did our guns fire
While Fritz, he was giving us Hell.
Our lads were falling thickly,
As on they went in that steady rush.
For the bullets and shrapnel rained round us,
Like drops from a dewy bush.
But that line still went steadily forward
And those efforts proved not in vain.
For with the help of that timely support, Sir,
The Canadians that trench did regain.
But the gallant deeds of that battle
Must be left for History to tell
And may God’ in his gracious keeping
Best the souls of the lads who fell.
So always be proud of your Battalion lads.
Strive to keep the good name it has won,
Don’t be frightened when asked “What’s you Mob, mate?
To say “We’re the Fifth King’s Own”
H Eccles.
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