"When lions were being led by donkeys, I led the donkey"
William Arthur (sometimes known as Ludgate Hill), was a Manchester born poet who died in the blitz. He was a stretcher bearer during the First World War and ended up in Rampton Mental Institution in the 1930's. He was also part of a firing squad (see 'The Coward).
When everyone goes on about 'Help the Heroes' nowadays, I think it's the ordinary people like William Arthur that were conscripted in the past who are the real embodiment of heroes. At least the soldiers today are going off to fight through choice, as nobody forces them to join up now (although I do realise it's often the poorer and less well educated members of society that choose to do so).
Here's some of William Arthur's work.
We Gassed Fritz Today (The Somme 1916)
We dropped mustard gas on Fritz today
The wind blew it back in our faces
Mother of God we murdered our own
Lined up dead in old munition cases
And the Padre he blessed all of the bodies
The General he addressed all of the men
Tomorrow the wind would be turning
And we’ll be gassing the Hun again
Mud There Was (The Somme 1916)
Mud there was and more mud to see
Mud there was for the 22’s and me
Mud there was on July the bloody first
And it’s the mud I remember the worst
Mud there was when the whistle blew
Mud there was when cannon shell flew
Mud there was when little Nobby died
Mud there was when he fell by my side
Mud there was and more mud to see
Mud from the front to the infirmary
Mud there was on July the bloody first
And it’s the mud I remember the worst
The Coward (Etaples base camp 1916)
We Shot Harry for cowardice
But I never met a braver man
But I was on the hill that morning
And I saw that Harry ran
They picked a shooting party
They chose at random by lot
And I was chosen to shoot Harry
For something that he was not
And he refused his last cigarette
And he refused his blindfold too
And we shivered behind our rifles
But we aimed them straight and true
And one of the six had a blank
And a target fixed to Harry’s chest
And each man discharged his rifle
And each man earned one day’s rest
We Shot Harry for cowardice
But I never met a braver man
And I sent home all his possessions
And a letter to his Mam
This article would not have been possible without the research of Mike Duff (and United We Stand)
toodle pip