Remember

No doubt they'll soon get well; the shock and strain
Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.
Of course they're 'longing to go out again,'
These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.
They'll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed
Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,
Their dreams that drip with murder; and they'll be proud
Of glorious war that shatter'd all their pride...
Men who went out to battle, grim and glad;
Children, with eyes that hate you, broken and mad.
'Survivors' Siegfried Sassoon, 1917

Remembrance Day is nearly upon us again, it's relevance undimmed for nearly a hundred years. Whatever the political overtones one harsh fact is true, young men and women continue to lay down their lives so that we may carry on our daily lives in peace. Poetry and song cut to the quick - we've brought together songs from some of the most talented singer songwriters we know that look at the event and what it signifies from very different angles...

Described as "an alternative take on the potent symbol of remembrance" singer songwriter Steve Knightley (one half of Show of Hands) has penned an acclaimed song on his new album Cruel River

Steve says : "I was struck by the fact that the poppy that symbolises so much sacrifice and loss is also the flower of the plant that has brought so much misery to our towns and cities".

"It probably won't be what most people first imagine when they think of Remembrance Sunday but I hope, especially at this time of year, it might make people think".

Poppy Day
Steve Knightley

You know the London street life's had it's fill
Saturation overspill
I start my car head west until
I reach a little county town
And in the tree lined suburbs out in the sticks
I open up my bag of tricks
There's a million more young lives to fix
Another deal goes down

You know me I'm a big city matador
I make a killing down the M4 corridor
Strike up the band today is poppy day
Coming to a town near you

See them hanging out by the old stone cross
One more carved name - no great loss
I make a good living I give no toss
And I'm heading back to town
So when the radio talks about another new Czar
I laugh out loud in my brand new car
The London sky it calls from afar
My wheels of trade go round

They stand in line as my drum beats reveille
Instead of a medal here's a spike and a tourniquet
Strike up the band today is poppy day
It’s coming to a town near you
Coming to a town near you

Take this petal take this pin
Put that blood red honey under your skin
But I want my cut, I’ll shake this tin
Let’s begin….

So there’s my best mate in Afghanistan
Fighting with the Paras, taking on the Taliban
If anyone can take those mothers out they can
The sons of Salisbury plain
He says it’s just like walking through Flanders fields
Now the opium farmers have doubled their yields
We bring them back on their comrades shields
But here's a way to dull the pain

So what’s your poison? You choose
Is it weed or wine, is it pills or booze?
You know this war on drugs is an abject failure
You’re trying to kill bugs with a gun or a rapier
Strike up the band today is poppy day
Coming to a town near you

Coming to a town near you
And I’m coming to a town near you

The Fading Of Light
Martyn Joseph & Stewart Henderson

The camera phone's last photograph
A frozen, hand held Cenotaph.
It's like The Somme, without the mud,
We tried to edit out the blood.
The roadside bomb, more squandered men
It's desolation row, again
For what then have they paid this price
As we shop in retail paradise

It's the fading of light
and all those sad songs
Last Post on the bugle
can't change the wrong
It's the fading of light
and the crooked schemes of men
confirm that the fallen
won't be getting up again

And Abel's death is now routine
On brother Cain's computer screen
His weapon's fixed co-ordinates
Removed our being spilt our guts.
You can kill one man it's homicide,
You slay thousands, nobody's tried.
And our leaders will not stand in Court
To swear it was the dead that fought

Apocalyptic visionaries,
these military missionaries
they stand apart, deny their sins
convinced annihilation wins.
Not even satire brings them shame,
instead, exaggerated fame,
great big houses and lecture tours
the pride and pity of all wars.

PRECIOUS LITTLE SOLDIER
Patsy Matheson

I remember Richmond
We were running for the train
You were looking at your watch
And we were soaking from the rain
And you told me I was precious
And you told me that I should have brought my hat
And then you kissed me on the mouth and held my shoulders
You were always doing that

You were heading down to Pirbright
For a posting overseas
Your second stint of active
And you said it was a breeze
You were whistling from The Great Escape
And said we’ll make a baby when you’re home
I said you hurry back now
Because darling I can’t do it on my own

I smiled at all your letters
How you liked the smell of sand
It reminded you of Cornwall
With the desert in your hand
You would close your eyes and think of me
And all the times we’ve walked along the beach
You said it’s warmer there though
You said Darling, it’s a shame you’re out of reach

Then I heard one Monday that
You were never coming back
You had got eleven bullets from a rifle in your back
Your Mother had to tell me
We’re not married so the news can’t come to me
She didn’t have the details so I sat down
And I switched on the TV

And now I have a baby; he is coming up for three
He’s a precious little soldier and he points his gun at me
And he says bang , bang, bang Mummy, bang bang Mummy
Now you’re dead
He says bang bang bang Mummy
Laughing as he shoots me in the head

Listen to the songs

Poppy Day
Steve Knightley

The Fading Of Light
Martyn Joseph & Stewart Henderson