War and my father’s face

126. 14 November 2021

I remember across more than twenty years

I remember how my father’s face changed

As he lay dying in hospital intensive care:

It went from himself to his father, my grandfather,

Similarities in the mouth and jaw and nose.

I had never noticed before except in pictures

Of my father, the judge, in his wig and gown.

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Both my grandfathers fought all through the War –

The First World War, the one to end wars.

One grandfather spent four years in the British artillery,

Went through flu while waiting to be demobbed.

My other grandfather was a hero with medals,

Unfortunately, on the wrong side, for Austro-Hungary.

He was in a commando unit, wounded twice,

Both times it saved his life from the decimation

Of his regiment. One told stories of fighting through Italy,

The other didn’t. Both were changed utterly.

They got along fine, despite the language barrier.

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My father missed the fighting in World War Two,

Only three years too young for it, what a swizz!