We found ourselves at the age of ten
In the company of much older men
Most of whom had served in France
And told us of their game of chance

In younger days, they’d had the spark
And took the shilling for a lark
Told of adventure, women and wine
Small mention of life “in the line”

A generation chasm could be seen
Choirboys and Tommies, none in-between
Somehow though the gap was spanned
Enriched by this old, gallant band

They told of trench life, bullets and mud
Lice and gas, shrapnel and blood
Daily routine and endless games
Of wilder times, with young French dames

They made us think, these older gents
What we would do if we were sent
To far-off lands – to fight and die
Lads like Tim, Mick, Dave and I.