Young were they then.
Boys no more
But not yet men
When the drums of war,
Like Sirens’ song,
Swept up yearning hearts,
And the fear of missing out
Was all they feared
From homelands far from home.

Steeped in the lore
Of their fathers’ wars,
They could not fail
Their country’s call,
As over there and over here,
They sailed away on mothers’ tears
To homelands far from home.

A rugged game,
Or so it seemed,
Until their friends
Beside them fell,
And innocence
Was shed like blood
In the muck and mud
Of homelands far from home.

Those at home
The same remained,
And “over there”,
A glorious war reigned.
While in the trenches,
The boys, forever changed,
Still in their prime,
Old men became,
As endless ranks began
Their endless slumber
In homelands far from home.

And every year,
On that one day,
With pipes and drums,
We honour they
Who homeward came
But found no home.
And never will their hearts forget
Their comrades who still slumber yet
In homelands far from home.

Stephen Tomkins
Seoul
18 January 2024