Colin F. Jones


From the edge of victory we retreat,
Determining our own sad defeat,
That all those soldiers who have died,
The splendour of achievement is denied.
For we who live; it is our regret,
That all our goals were never met,
For what we fought for was not won,
Thus we rue that which was never done.
Let not those now who go to war,
Return as we did to deplore,
A regime retreating from the foe,
Before they strike the final blow.
For we must wage all wars to win,
If only to honour who die therein