Back from the combatzones
Of the rest of Europe
And patriotic ticker-tape parades,
England's sons

Had no homes
To come back to
In the mid-1940s.

Military camps
Luxury flats
City hotels
Were abandoned.
Fears of air raids
By Nazi planes
Dropping bombs
Power outtages
Cities blown to the bare bricks
Sent everyone running.
Crisis followed crisis:
Housing shortage.

Under nightfall's
Thick velvety cover, like
An Army battalion onto an enemy fort,
The ex-soldiers of England
Saw vacant buildings,
Opened them up,
Took them over
And made them their own.

Huddling against a wall
In the dead cold
Wasn't an option.

Neither was languishing
For years on a public list, waiting
For the government to hand over a pre-fab cottage.

Legal paper
Fictions of "private property" & "leasing"
Never entered the equation

When the need for housing
Was greatest
Right there, right then.

Military camps
Luxury flats
City hotels
Filled in nicely
With veterans & civilians, 45,000 strong
In the post-war days.
They were better at
Re-organising society
Than Her Majesty's Kingdom,
As committees & collectives
Ran communal kitchens,
Provided first aid,
Repaired the barracks,
Ran makeshift clinics,
Opened up potential homes
For fellow dispossessed,
Defended newfound homes
From the danger
Of ejection
Back to constant wandering
And instability
Dreaded instability
On the street-----

England's sons
And Wales'
And later, Scotland's
Made good on a promise
To themselves:

Homes truly fit for heroes.
The homecoming any soldier needs.