They disembarked in '45
And no one spoke and no one smiled
There were too many spaces in the line

And gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial knives

But now
She stands upon
Southampton Dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock
Clings to her wet body in the rain

In quiet desperation
Knuckles white upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again

And still the dark stain spreads between
Their shoulder blades
A mute reminder
Of the poppy fields and graves
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt the final cut