Grandad


In a far off land, in Italian soil, lies a man
a soldier, a Scouser, my grandad, my hero
he died before I was born, sacrificed to war
yet our bond has strength, my love for him is endless
my pride, as always, overwhelming.

Lived off Scottie road did grandad, Comus street
loved his mam Mary, his brothers John and Tommy
and his little sis Win.
His daddy died, shooting a big gun at Germans
in Belgium, in a field.

Grandad laid flags, Corpy paid him
worked at Spencer street.
you might have walked on his flags.

He met Nanna, and they fell in love
St Anthony’s had a wedding
St Martins cottages had new tenants
my dad was born, everyone happy, everything rosy.

Mr Hitler came along, everything bad, everyone sad.
grandad called up, trained, kitted out, shipped off
they gave him a big gun, he shot planes, in Malta
three years later they said "go home, have some leave"
put him on a ship to Nanna
and me dad.

Ship turned around, Sicily needs invading, no leave sorry
Sicily invaded, Italy needs invading, no leave sorry
we must get to Rome.

Grandad never got there
it was at Minturno, that they took him from Nanna
and me dad
my dads daddy died, shooting a big gun at Germans
in Italy, in a field.

I went to visit grandad, in Italy, in a cemetery, not a field
I talked to him, I kissed his headstone
I cried.

My daddy died, he is with his daddy now, and his mam .
I miss him
my heroes are all together
in heaven, in a field, just having fun

By Anthony Hogan