How could I stop him; so young, brave and strong?

From marching along with pack and a gun.

Can a mother’s dread be so wrong?

"My country needs me, got to hurry along;

Off to the war, see you when won."

How could I stop him; so young, brave and strong?

Bide awhile, Son - don’t join in with that throng,

Pause for thought; it’ll never be much fun!

Can a mother’s dread be so wrong?

"Let the lad be; they’re no match, won’t last long,

Just mind me, and t’other little un."

How could I stop him; so young, brave and strong?

Wrote to me plenty; his words ringing like song,

Saying not so bad when facing old Hun.

Can a mother’s dread be so wrong?

Now heart-shorn by words; sound dread’s own gong;

Sad to say - with son you have done.

How could I stop him; so young, brave and strong?

Can a mother’s dread be so wrong?

© John Sales 2009