Written by Leon Arthur Lalonde in 1916 shortly after receiving news that his brother, Maurice Chevrier Lalonde, was killed in action April 5, 1916.
Twenty Days, three months and a score of years
On April fifth was the age
Of a good clean lad who had no fears,
who fought in the battles rage.
He was my brother who’ll be no more
He’s done his bit o’er the seas
He died a man in the battle's roar
And his loss has saddened me.
Oh God! I loved my Brother Boy
Such a loyal chum to me
Always giving to others — Joy
Just think! He’ll no longer be.
And now my heart aches every day
It keeps me from my sleep
The horrors haunt and burrow away
I cannot help but weep
O give me work for my hands to do
Now that I have great grief
There’s no other balm so great
For a sorrowing heart’s relief
And give me something to think about
Something besides my pain
Let me labour throughout the day
With a busy hand and brain
From the flush of morn to the gloom of night
With never a time to weep
And then to the glooming let me turn
To my army cot to sleep
Let me dream of the day I’ll know
That I have done my share
Be I at home away from the foe
Or with Maurice “Over there”
Leon Arthur Lalonde was my dad. He was in the Royal Flying Corps. in the UK when he was notified that his brother, Maurice Chevrier Lalonde, who had made it through Passchendaele, was killed at Arass while in charge of a three-man machine gun crew. All three soldiers were killed by a direct hit from an enemy shell. I was named after my uncle.
Maurice Denman (Denny) Lalonde
Richmond
