A LITTLE BIT OF HEAVEN

I’ve been in draughty barracks,
And under canvas too;
I’ve soldiered up at Purfleet –
None too grand, ‘tis true.

But the place I shall remember,
And remember with a frown,
Is wild forsaken, dreary
Ballykinler, County Down.

“World’s End “ camp they call it,
That fits it to a T.
Had it been a few yards further
You’d have found it in the sea.

The man who first discovered
This interesting spot
Should rank as an explorer
With Shackleton and Scott.

We never see a “civvie,“
We never smell a “pub,“
S.S.’s our only paper,
And we never see much grub.

In short, we’re isolated,
I tell you the thing that’s true;
We might as well be camping
In plains of Timbuktu.

The wind is keen and icy,
And little jack has said
The only way to warm himself
Is getting into bed.

The cold, my lads, is cruel,
I’ve known none worse before –
A seagull, from exposure,
Has snuffed it on the shore.

A little bit of heaven 
Old Ireland has been named;
I haven’t seen the world’s end here,
So cannot well be blamed.

I’ll say it fair and squarely,
A so to Southend tell,
If Ballykinler’s heaven,
Give me a taste of h----

By Rifleman O H Terry

* This poem was first printed in the Grays and Tilbury Gazette in April 1917 and is featured in the book WW1 Poems and Letters by Men of Grays and Tilbury, which is priced at £6 and is available by emailing truslera@hotmail.com