The Hero

The Hero…….

Ah yazed tae be a hero
wore the tartan trews
camped in far flung lands
an marched alang wi you.
We used to be twa hunner
but that wiz wars ago,
the sniper and the orders
through clouds of fire we go
some were left ahm sorry tae sae
so far away fae hame.
But ma freen your niver
too far away from me.
When that postin wiz dun
we marched across the world
camped at hamiltoon barracks
and drank till the sun went doon.
The heilen men were rampant
causin quite a stir, fur boys from Troon
they kept their time before they went to war.
They slept ootside the gates of course
such was their delight
We cut their hair and marched them oot
when we thought them fit.
Tae shoot a gun an march awe nicht
tae holmwood green an pitch their tents.
The sergeants men of honour tae
were camped at the Tillietudlem bor
alang wi auld yins who they say
fought the whirlin dervish and at Waterloo.
We remember the men from Troon
an awe thir tales o’ hame
of how their mithers were so proud
when they came marchin hame.
We used tae be twa hunner
but now we are so few
we bit oor tongues fur a better life
Oor reward wiz a in the pits
at least we were dry and warm
and in that place alone at nicht
my thoughts wid turn to them.
The strike we had to do fur the hoors were long
awe this talk from fighten men
workin roon the clock
The sojers came wae bayonets fitted
an cried when they saw we were
The men that trained them how to live
in some far off holy war.
Noo were the wanes who sleep ootside
fur the kings shillin wiz all gone.
When ah walk the back roads ah sometimes see forever
wee Davie Tam and shuggie marchin as in youth
fine athletic men were they and prood as ever can be
carved in Granite on the banks of Auchentibber.


The above poem was written for Historic Hamilton by John Stokes.