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Comrade take care

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Just another wartime plane crash.
They entered the wreck
And viewed the crazed carnage within.
The black, broken bodies
Would no more suffer pain,
Just three more on the road to Berlin.
But look! what is this?
A volunteer kneels
By a wirelessman barely alive,
And he bends to a face
Whose expression reveals
The steeliest will to survive.
Head and neck injuries,
Comrade take care!
This victim of wartime futility
Will become a great hero
Of pace, strength and flair,
Despite his soft-spoken humility.
He’ll lead England’s line,
Blast in blistering goals,
Haul a country’s prestige to its feet.
So comrade, take care
And plug those red holes,
For Morty is white as a sheet.

1

Notes

England’s greatest ever centre-forward (in my opinion), Stanley Mortensen nearly never made it through the war.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/comrade-take-care/