July 1st 1916 saw the first day of The Battle of the Somme in World War One.
In the week leading up to the battle, over 1.5 million shells were fired, I won’t delve any further into this futile battle in a nonsensical war that cost so many lives on both sides, the twentieth century brought a new horror to warfare that continues to this day and it depresses me. The battle lasted over 4 months, more than three million men fought in it and one million men were wounded or killed.
I will simply leave you with the poem Glory’ by Scots poet Violet Jacob, who lost her twenty-year-old son Harry in the battle. Written soon after his death and published in December of that year, the poem would surely have resonated with thousands of bereaved mothers across the country.
Growing up in Angus, Violet wrote many of her poems, including this one, in her native Scots tongue. If you are unfamiliar with the language, you can look up individual words using the online Dictionary of the Scots Language. https://dsl.ac.uk/
I canna’ see ye, lad, I canna’ see ye,
For a’ yon glory that’s aboot yer heid,
Yon licht that haps ye, an’ the hosts that’s wi’ ye,
Aye, but ye live, an’ it’s mysel’ that’s deid!
They gae’d frae mill and mart; frae wind-blawn places,
And grey toon-closes; i’ the empty street
Nae mair the bairns ken their steps, their faces,
Nor stand to listen to the trampin’ feet.
Beside the brae, and soughin’ through the rashes,
Yer voice comes back to me at ilka turn,
Amang the whins, an’ whaur the water washes
The arn-tree wi’ its feet amang the burn.
Whiles ye come back to me when day is fleein’,
And a’ the road oot-by is dim wi’ nicht,
But weary een like mine is no for seein’,
An’, gin they saw, they wad be blind wi’ licht.
Deith canna’ kill. The mools o’ France lie o’er ye,
An yet ye live, O sodger o’ the Lord!
For Him that focht wi’ deith an’ dule afore ye,
He gie’d the life – ‘twas Him that gie’d the sword.
But gin ye see my face or gin ye hear me,
I daurna’ ask, I maunna’ seek to ken,
Though I should dee, wi’ sic a glory near me,
By nicht or day, come ben, my bairn, come ben!
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