Laurence Binyon, who was 45 in 1914, was a British academic and poet. He worked for the Red Cross during the First World War, and did not visit the front line until 1916, two years after writing this poem.
'Tis a sad poem indeed. Mr.S. never knew his grandfather who was killed in 1914 in France leaving behind a wife who was expecting a child ..my father-in-law. He was on the other side but nevertheless just an ordinary man doing his duty for his country.F-I-L had to fight in the second lot and hated it...my own real mother was a refugee fleeing a war torn country .All war is futile..a waste of life.