We end our tribute to the eight players with Rovers connections killed in the First World War with this poem, written by Eric Whitlock
The final whistle
By Eric Whitlock
Soddened boots ankle deep in mud, baggy shorts complete the scene.
Your country needs you. No white feathers it’s Autumn 1914.
The goals, the cheers, the heartaches too, flash by on Eastvilles’ green.
Glimpse silhouettes through gasworks smog that enshrouds the Rovers team.
The captain shouts “Stand steady lads, and play up to the last”.
Its Rovers 2 the Palace 1 then the Referees’ whistle blasts!
They congratulate and they celebrate but as good sportsmen did back then
They just shake hands, and share a smoke with worthy foes and brother football men.
While empires collided and war clouds gathered even to North Bristol.
For several of our heroic team it was the final whistle!
Soddened boots knee deep in mud, Khaki uniforms complete the scene
Your country needs you. Bayonets fixed its Autumn 1916
Their loves, their kin, their dreams, flash by over the Somme’s destructive scene.
Glimpse silhouettes through machine gun hail and mustard smog that enshrouds the Rovers team.
The captain shouts, “Stand steady lads and play up to the last”.
“Over the top” For King and Country. The captain’s whistle blasts.
With one lost leg, eight dead, and a goalie left with shell shock
They just shake hands and share a smoke with worthy foes, fussballspieler unter den bosch.
While machine guns rake, shells amputate, and chlorine falls like drizzle.
Let’s never forget those Rovers boys who heard the final whistle.