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The Eleventh Hour, of
the Eleventh Day, of the Eleventh Month
of Year 2007
And Nations of the Free
World shall fall silent in Honour of those who made the Supreme Sacrifice
in defence of that Freedom.
Whilst we remember them
all, let us keep a corner in our hearts especially for those who trod the
paths of Arborfield.
They shall grow not
old, as we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary
them, nor the years condemn,
At the going down of
the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them,
We will remember them.
Who are these men who
march so proud
Who quietly weep, eyes
closed, head bowed?
These are the men who
once were boys,
Who missed out on youth
and all its joys,
Who are these men with
aged faces
Who silently count the
empty spaces?
These are the men who
gave their all,
Who fought for their
country, for freedom, for all,
Who are these men with
sorrowful look,
Who can still remember
the lives that were took?
These are the men who
saw young men die,
The price of peace is
always high.
Who are these men who
in the midst of pain,
Whispered comfort to
those they would not see again?
These are the men,
whose hands held tomorrow,
Who brought back our
future with blood tears and sorrow?
Who are these men who
promise to keep,
Alive in their hearts
the ones God holds asleep?
These are the men to
whom I promise again:
'Veterans', my friends,
I will remember them!
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