I was born in Accrington, in the North West of England and was aware of the ‘Accrington Pals’ from a very early age. This is my tribute to them, and the millions of others like them who fought in the Great War.

The Accrington Pals are probably the best remembered of the British battalions raised in the early months of the First World War. Groups of friends from all walks of life in Accrington and its neighbouring towns enlisted together to form a battalion with a distinctively local identity. Transported by train, they left for a world they could never have imagined.

Approximately 700 men from the Accrington Pals went in to action on 1 July 1916 in the battle of the Somme. 585 men became casualties in about half an hour.

Blue sky shining on a perfect day,
A lark was singing, high above the Somme.
Brothers, pals and fathers lay
Watching that sweet bird sing in the quiet of the dawn.
And they all went walking out towards the howling guns,
Talking and laughing, calmly walking on,
Believing in the lies that
Left them dying in the mud,
And they’re lying, lying, lying still -
The Accrington Pals.

Smoky town which heard the news,
Down in the valley, smoky little streets.
Houses quiet and curtains pulled,
All round the town a silent shroud of grief.
And the larks were singing still above old Pendle Hill,
The wind was in the bracken and the sun was shining still.
A lark was singing sweetly as
The evening fell upon the Somme.