In honour of Cst. Wynn.
The Flag Flies at Half-Mast Again
It’s nearing the time for the shift to change,
And so on duty I go,
With uniform, leather and metal,
All cleaned and polished – they glow.
And as I near the detachment,
What’s this? I see it quite plain,
My goodness, I wonder what happened?
The flag is at Half Mast Again.
Seems – yes – it’s been just a short fortnight,
We raised it back to full mast,
And yet there it is gently blowing
It’s tribute to service now past.
What happened? Oh – didn’t you hear it?
Two members were wounded, one slain.
And that’s the unfortunate reason
The flag flies at half-mast again.
Who was it? You don’t say.
You knew him? Yes – and a wonderful guy.
A troopmate of whom? Kind of sick’ning.
I wonder why he had to die?
Let’s pray that the others will waken,
And rise from their beds of pain.
But that doesn’t change the sorrow,
And the Flag flies at half-mast again.
I penned this poem in 1978 after three members were shot (1 killed) at Virden, Manitoba.