Old soldiers never die...
Today is a special day.
Sadness and joy all mixed up.
Most days, old soldiers will wake up in the middle of the night and remember.
Perhaps Kipling's poem say's it all:
"Have you news of my boy Jack?"
Not this tide.
"When d’you think that he’ll come back?"
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
"Has any one else had word of him?"
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
"Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?"
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind—
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
Link to Wiki
All that we needed was more artillery ammunition to blast those clearly located machine-guns, and some fresh infantry to take over from the weary and depleted 'Jocks.' But, alas, neither ammunition nor reinforcements were immediately available, and the great opportunity passed.
(From Warner, Philip. The Battle of Loos. Hertfordshire: Wordsworth Editions Limited, 1976: 1-2).
Over 50,000 soldiers fell, some gassed, a lot more blasted apart.