Newlyn’s War Memorial Frieze
There are no smiles.
No sense even, of triumph
As men file across life’s stage,
Of war’s theatrical bronze frieze,
Merely determination
And fierce jawlines
On men who have seen horror, crimes,
Strife and pity in death’s wiles;
And yet in their steely eyes
There is no recrimination.
Hauling weaponry, stores, tools of the trench,
A shovel and an angular wrench;
Yet straight-backed, a trio of comrades
Marches with colours raised proud,
Duty done, minds torn awry
By the mud, the carnage, the stench,
With scant hope of amelioration…
Pete Ray
This was one of the first memorials I photographed, some years ago.
Sailors, soldiers, men hauling supplies are all featured strongly on this bronze frieze…
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