This poem about loyalty, heroism and personal sacrifice at the front was penned by H. Geeves, of Leagrave, in January 1915 and published in The Luton News on January 14th, 1915, under the title "Greater Love".
The troops were retiring, but sullenly,
For they didn't much like the work.
They'd rather have fought, though they'd been wiped out,
For they weren't the right sort to shirk.
They had held their post for hours on end
In the face of the hellish fire.
But the odds were too heavy, the colonel said,
So he gave the word to retire.
So backward they went, but slowly still,
As men who were really loth to go,
And they picked their way through the fire-swept zone,
Where the tide of battle rolled to and fro.
And here and there in their forced retreat,
As quietly as though on parade,
They turned and face the enemy's guns,
And steadily shot for shot repaid
At last they have reached the safety line,
Where the bullets now but faintly hum,
When a Trooper who rode in the rearmost rank
Turned round and missed his chum.
They had been fast friends through the awful days
When Death had walked very near.
What though he is safe if his pal be gone!
His heart is filled with a deadly fear.
He stands in his stirrup to scan the plain,
And his blood flows suddenly quick and warm,
As there on the ground some distance back
He sees his comrade's silent form.
It is death to go back, the others say,
But through set teeth comes his quick reply,
"What, leave him there while I ride away!
No, I'll save him, or else I will die."
No thought of self as he wheels his horse,
And straight for his wounded chum he rides.
And his horse responds and covers the ground
With quick and unswerving strides.
What though the bullets fly thick and fast
And the ground is strewn with the dead,
He bends his head on his horse's neck
And rides through the hail of lead.
And methinks the God of the true and brave
Was guarding him as onward he flew.
For, in spite of the storm of shot and shell,
He gradually nearer and nearer drew
To the form that was lying cold and still.
He has reached him at last, and leaping down
He sees that he lives, and feels a joy
That no fear of the journey back can drown.
Swiftly he lays him across his steed,
And as quickly leaps up his his side.
Just one glance back as he grips the reins
And sets his teeth for the homeward ride.
There is joy in his heart as he gallops on,
And he feels no fear of the bullets' hum,
Though there's formed in his heart at each glance down
An unconscious prayer for his wounded chum.
He has almost finished his noble task,
He sees the friendly hands stretched out,
Knows they are all of them proud of him,
Feels strangely warned by their welcome shout.
A shout that comes to a sudden end,
And every eye grows moist and dim,
As he throws up his arms, and headlong falls,
For a bullet has found its mark in him.
And as they tenderly lay him there,
He opens his eyes and looks around,
Then smiles as he sees his chum still lives
And is lying beside him on the ground.
And then for ever the brave eyes close,
King Death has sealed them with his kiss.
And a gruff old sergeant, with husky voice,
Says, "Greater love hath none more than this".
He wasn't a goody-goody chap,
Even swore at times under his breath,
But he risked his all for his comrade's sake
And smiled in the face of death.
Only a trooper, just one of the crowd,
But he gave his life for his chum.
And methinks that a man who can die like that
Can't be far from the Kingdom Come.