I wrote this one after watching news interviews with the fathers of sons who had been killed in Afghanistan, but it could equally apply to Iraq.


THEY'RE BRINGING MY SON HOME TODAY
©J.A.Sugden March 2007

As I sit on his bed I remember his smile,
They're bringing my son home today,
In this photo he's beaming, surrounded by mates,
They're bringing my son home.
His birth was a hard one, the wife suffered and how;
We'd not have another, we both made that vow.
But the pain she felt then is nothing to what she feels now.
They're bringing my son home today.

There's an interview with his old headmaster,
They're bringing my son home today,
He's saying he was a popular student,
They're bringing my son home.
But he was in trouble from first to last;
Our hopes of university quickly passed.
When the police were involved his mum was aghast.
They're bringing my son home today.

After school he just drifted,
They're bringing my son home today,
From dole to dead-end job and back,
They're bringing my son home.
Then out of the blue he'll be a marine.
The wife was in hysterics and causing a scene.
I encouraged him, God help me, "Go serve the Queen".
They're bringing my son home today.

He loved it, all the training,
They're bringing my son home today,
The hard graft and camaraderie,
They're bringing my son home.
Then training was ended and come the day,
The look on his face when he got his green beret.
We were both so proud he'd found his own way.
They're bringing my son home today.

Then he's off on his first deployment,
They're bringing my son home today,
To a land far from this English shore,
They're bringing my son home.
He relished the action; it's what he'd joined for.
Part of an elite, the esprit de corps.
Then one evening, the knock on our door
They're bringing my son home today.

Downing Street expresses regrets.
They're bringing my son home today.
Politicians spouting platitudes.
They're bringing my son home.
His C.O., more honest, says "He was a good bloke.
Always stood by his mates; always ready with a joke."
The wife is in pieces, I think her heart's broke
They're bringing my son home today.

There're flowers outside the barracks gate
They're bringing my son home today
The Union flag flies at half-mast
They're bringing my son home
An old man pauses, then throws a salute
They'll say my son died serving his country; that I'll dispute
He died serving a policy dreamt up by a suit
They're bringing my son home today.

The bugle will play the Last Post,
They're bringing my son home today,
As they carry him slowly down the ramp.
They're bringing my son home.
I've watched that scene too often before,
But this time it's my son, a by-product of a lousy war.
Can somebody tell me just what he died for?
They're bringing my son home today,
They're bringing my son home today,
They're bringing my son home.