I asked hubby to do a post today cause what I’m sharing is about his family. He declined, cause he’s like that 😉 His Grandfather served in WWII in the Pacific after narrowly missing out on serving in Africa (which was considered lucky as the company he would have been with ended up as POWs)
(that’s Frank on the left – the short one… hubby’s family are mainly a short lot)
The following poem is written about hubby’s Grandad Frank by one of the men who served with him. We have no idea who wrote it (it would be awesome if we could find this out one day… any suggestions of how we could possibly go about this?)
Frankie
Now Frankie is a quiet chap,
Not the kind that chatter.
He dos’nt care for Ingleburn,
But what the hell’s that matter.
There’s one thing about Frankie,
At which I’ve often laughed,
He’s half his mind on Home Leave,
The other half on Draft.
He loves his wife,
As I do mine,
And I bet she thinks he’s swell,
It’s cruel that he’s away from home
But perhaps it’s just as well.
And when the war is ended
As end all wars must
All we will see of Frankie
Will be a cloud of dust.
He will have to go to beat me,
To catch a Southern Train,
But if he does we’ll meet I hope,
In Launceston again.
Author: Unknown
and now some tunes for your viewing pleasure (the second always brings me to tears)