AS war raged across much of Europe and beyond one Galashiels woman picked up her pen to bring some relief to soldiers on the front.

Thousands of Borders mothers, wives, sisters and daughters spent the Great War years keeping the home fires burning.

Many deputised in the workplace for the sons, husbands, brothers and fathers who had enlisted to fight.

And others helped lift spirits and morale with community events and fundraisers.

For on Galashiels woman, her own contribution was to pen and publish her poetry - and each edition was sold for a penny to aid the Comforts Fund.

Comforts Funds brought highly-welcomed items of luxury to the soldiers in the trenches.

And throughout much of the 1914-to-1918 conflict Agnes Hartley came up with sentimental stanzas and candid couplets to produce her sought-after mini anthologies.

Granddaughter Ann Shillinglaw told us: "Agnes was a well-respected poet and she sold many poems during the war to aid the Comforts Fund.

"She was a remarkable woman with a real gift for words."

Agnes Currie came from a well-known musical family in Galashiels.

Agnes married engineer Fred Hartley, who had come to the Scottish Borders from his native Yorkshire, to work at Burns Engineering.

At their home in Scott Street, Agnes gave birth to 11 children with only three - Christine, Kate and Fred - surviving.

Both Christine, who also a well-respected poet, and Kate followed their mother into the mills - working as darners at Hunter's Mill.

Kate's own two daughters, Ann and Carol, now treasure the lines their granny produced during some of the darkest days in Gala's history.

Ann added: "Granny Hartley's poems are beautiful and are as moving today as they must have been 100 years ago."

FATHERLESS (1916)

The nichts are sad and lonely,

And my life is fu' o' care;

For the bairnies aye keep askin'

For the face they'll see nae mair.

For me there'll be nae sunshine,

Like the sunshine after the rain,

For the only ane that loved me

Will ne'er return again.

TWEEDSIDE (1916)

Two years have now passed over

Since war was first declared,

And some of Gala's braw, braw lads

Lie in a distant grave.

The children run and romp and play,

And laugh in childish glee;

While their mothers' hearts are breaking

For their faither o'er sea.

And, sitting by Tweed's silvery stream,

I seem to see again

These selfsame bairnies' faithers

Playing just the same old games.

For dearly did they love Tweedside,

Far better than the sea;

For there they paddled and they bathed,

And on the grass had tea.

But as this year draws to a close,

May it to us peace bring,

That we may show the love we feel

When our soldier lads return.

They say he lies in Flanders,

But the place they dinna' name;

But when the great bell tolls o'erhead

Ilka yin will ken their ain.