Mers-el-Kebir
‘. . . .the comprehending spirit ofSimple folk touches the sublime.’ Winston Churchill
No victories or defeats here –And no enemiesAs the Brits were told Hitler must notBe gifted the French fleet.Then 15” guns of the British fleetLaughed to shame the cloud of arrowsRained on French steel at Agincourt.But a cloud of despair hung overBritish sailors as they wept forThe dead of Mers-el-Kebir.
French women could well have cursedPerfidious Albion for the deathOf their men at Mers-el-Kabir –For English shells were asDeadly as Deutsch,And the dead are gone forever.But two sons from two proud French familiesWere buried near Toulon inCoffins covered with French and British flags.And so a thought: maybe these coffinsHonour the soul and triumph of FranceMore than the Arc de Triomphe –And the dead can lie easy at Mers-el-Kebir.