They hoiked the flag up to the post with twine
They'd found between their grandad's comic books
In boxes marked with stains of tea and wine,
Hidden in the dust where no one looks
Because our middle-distanced past holds crooks,
It's said, more shameful than the reddened cheek
Of the commandoed, trouser-fallen Brookes -
Their granddad's pal – they claimed that he was "weak"
Though, through the war, ...
