The Bairn

A Scottish soldier takes a photograph of his child who he has never seen as he waits in the trench for the order to go over the top  he speaks to his son

The Bairn

You are a lucky bairn sitting in your pram
Dressed up sae bonny by your loving mam
A cheeky smile is on your face
So, welcome to the human race

Your pram is the colour of your eyes, dark blue
And with a shining body, to me it looks brand new
Who will you look like when you grow older?
Will you be the image of your daddy gone to be a soldier?

He’s gone to fight in the Great War for Country and for King
This war will end all wars so listen for the church bell’s ring
He is living in the mud in a rat infested trench
and in his nose the smell of death a vile and noxious stench

He is fighting for his life and others he must kill
With comrades dying all around they must capture yonder hill
The trenches are a vivid red, coloured by the young men’s blood
Boys of only 16 years lie crying, dying, to be buried in the mud

The battlefield is a hellish place, the guns roar out like thunder
The piercing screams of dying men their souls the enemy plunder
“Oh God, have mercy on me, please save me from this sorrow
Let me see my bairn, just one time, before you take away my tomorrow.