I have just been watching the festival of remembrance, and seeing the Para who was dropped at Arnhem reminded me once again of the price paid by these men and thier families.

A few years ago i wrote a poem in remembrance of dear friends whos lives were changed forever by that event.

DANCING AT ARNHEM

Shall we go dancing
Archie my lad
The Palais, the Ritz
And Barrowlands no bad
We'll waltz and we'll swing
As we move round the floor
And when the nights done
You'll walk me to my door
For soon you'll be dancing at Arnhem

Mammy run quickly
As fast as your able
Aunty Bab's standing greetin
As he ruins the table
That bycicle wheel
Is fair cutting a rut
Auntie Barclay ma Archie
Has gone aff his nut
Ever since he went dancing at Arnhem

So mother starts shouting
Like a seargent in heat
And a paintpot hands Archie
A job to complete.
Now the doors multicoloured
And the air has turned blue
But to glue a mind back together
What else can you do
Thats the price of going dancing at Arnhem.