"To the R.A.M.C."
Who are these who go where the bullets fly,
Where the shells come crashing down,
Where thicker, and thicker, the wounded lie,
In the ranks of the khaki brown?
All un-armed are they, neither sword nor gun
Do they bear for defence or hurt.
Then what do they where the ruthless Hun
Is doing his deadly work?
Though they bear no arms, they are fighting a foe
Whose touch ends our mortal breath;
Where their comrades are stricken and lying low
They are waging a war with Death.
Thus they count not their own lives to them dear,
So their comrades' lives be saved,
While they bind up their wounds, and with tender cheer,
Bear them back where the Red Cross waves.
Is not this a Christ-like work to do?
Can a "greater love" we see?
Then give we honour where honour is due -
To the men of the R.A.M.C.
From: "The Lengthening War: The Great War Diary of Mabel Goode", edited by Michael Goode and published by Pen & Sword, Barnsley, Yorkshire, 2017.