Poignant poem

A Perthshire reader has been in touch with a poignant poem found in his late father’s possessions.

“I came across this poem in my father’s things. He was a tank commander in the Second World War in the desert and, while I don’t think he wrote this, he probably knew who did. I thought it may be of interest.” TANKS – TO THE MEMORY Tank Commanders, briefed and ready, Crews are mounted, quiet and steady, Fear is hidden, thoughts are banned, Nothing but the job in hand.

From the Squadron Leader’s turret, Comes the signal, slow, unhurried, Pre-arranged, commands formation, Troops move off in strict rotation.

Villages deserted, pregnant, With a sense of danger latent, Engines roaring, tracks are clanging, Heralding destruction coming.

Periscopes reflect objective, Guns prepared to be effective, Suddenly! the strain is broken, Involuntary curses spoken.

Chaos reigns for just an instant, Rapid chatters, loud, insistent, Empty cases fast deflecting, Cordite fumes, the fans neglecting.

Grim defenders ranged for battle, Covered by the Spandau’s rattle, Take their toll in men and armour, Angel Death among the clamour.

Task accomplished, make for harbour, Thankful sighs expelled with candour, Now’s the time for thoughts and sorrow,

- God! The same again tomorrow.