Lest we forget, Sunday

[Bushbaby]

I think it is now time for the governement to grant a blanket pardon to all those who were “Shot at Dawn” in The Great War

The majority of them were victims of the power driven madness of Duggie Haig and were no more cowards than they were flamenco dancers. They suffered from an intense mental illness brought on by, in many cases, years of coming under enemy fire, and it’s time for our elected leaders to examine the evidence and make a responsible decision.

It would be better to pardon a few genuine cowards than to maintain this unfair tarnish of thousands of very brave boys

 

I’ll be outside Cole Brothers’ on Sunday morning proudly sporting my medals, and I will be thinking of ALL our soldiers.

Bless ‘em

[CHAIRBOY]

I really do feel that the only people passionate about Remembrance Day are the remaining direct and close descendants of the fallen. To most others its an inconvenience and it makes my blood boil when I see a total disregard for what is now a paltry few minutes of respect.

 

I had an uncle who was a POW in WW2 but no other involvement I am aware of. I merely put myself in the position of many unfortunate families who have lost dear ones and remember what I was taught when a child; remove headwear at silences, I take my flat cap off when a funeral cortege passes and remove it for National Anthems etc.

Many times now, when we actually get a "minute's silence" at a football match the commentator has said; "Impeccably observed" but as the camera has panned around the ground, there are so many people still wearing headgear! It's as though people are unaware of the correct protocol and the minute's applause has come into being because so may people are just unable to keep quiet for a mere minute. So many people engrossed in number one!

[Plain Talker]

Lest we forget.

Seeing as it is coming up to Remembrance Day, I thought it only fitting to write a little verse in memory of my uncle John.

May he rest in peace.

 

 

Broken Dreams

 

His father a miner as his father before

The thought of the pit, his mind did deplore

A new path he chose, though a path so short

Leaving youth behind, no more to cavort

 

With Innocence of youth, and ignorance of grief

For king and country, was his one true belief

Seduced by glory and childhood dreams

To do his duty, against all extremes

 

The phoney war over, the battle began

He took up arms, against Hitler’s master plan

The glory of battle and no thought for regards

His only dream. The Inniskilling dragoon guards

 

To stem usurpation, of England and ally

Fascist rule, he fought to deny

In the fields of France, by his comrades he stood

Gerry fired first shot, and shed first blood

 

Dunkirk to his back and the enemy he faced

He stood his ground and gave no grace

Demise of his comrades, the blood and the gore

This broken dream, was the reality of war

 

Though mortally wounded, his head held high

For truth and liberty, he was proud to die

The lament in his heart, was his only pain

His parents and siblings, he will never see again

 

He prepared for his maker, with no fear of death

With thoughts of old England, he drew his last breath

With no wife to grieve and no sweetheart to mourn

He was laid for perpetuity, one misty spring morn.

 

Copyright © 2007 Mick Coyle

 

Coyleys, that's a very touching poem. My grandpa fought in WWI, and God alone knows what horrors he and his compatriots saw. He was wounded, but came back safely (in a fashion) to his family, and for that we are grateful. We take time out to remember the lads who didn't come back.

[madowl]

A SOLDIER'S PRAYER

Dear Lord

Please let me have regular dreams like others do

Not these nightmares of memory

Let my dreams be filled with light and joy

Not smoke and terror

Let me hear the laughter of children

Not the screams of men dying

Let the birds fill the air with song

Not the sounds of bombs and bullets

Let the rivers run pure and clear

Not red with blood

Let everyone be healthy and whole

Not missing limbs and faces

Let the earth look as you made it

Not scorched and cratered

Let me wake up smiling

Not searching for the enemy

Let the sweat on my pillow be from summer's heat

Not the sweat of fear and anxiety

but dear Lord most of all

I beg you

Please don't let my children or their children

pray to you as I am doing tonight

Amen.

 

........................................................................................

 

If the human race wishes to have a prolonged and indefinite period of material prosperity, they have only got to behave in a peaceful and helpful way toward one another.

Winston Churchill.

[Bushbaby]

A SOLDIER'S PRAYER

Dear Lord

Please let me have regular dreams like others do...

.

 

Lovely poems guys, and sentiments to be trluy admired

[helbco]

rogG - your comment about the UK observance of Rememberance Day is relevant in Australia. At least we do 'Poppy Day' and people have been wearing Poppys all this week but you will never see cars, public transport and people on the street stopping at 11am.

 

There will be church services but otherwise life goes on.

 

Hey - we have a (state) public holiday for a horse race but not for a November rememberance! At least we have a 'sort of' holiday for ANZAC Day to remember the appalling loss at Gallipoli. 'Sort of' means offices and banks are closed but shops are allowed to open after lunch. We also have a major football match that afternoon which is actually part of the ANZAC tradition and there is always a suitable acknowledgement before the game so that is not such a bad thing.

 

I can't bear to read the poems that others have posted and I been very distressed with the recent loss of life of Australians, not only in Iraq but Afghanistan - how sad that nobody really cares! As someone else commented - they associate war only with old people.

 

My Grandfather survived WW1 and returned to work in Sheffield - but never talked about it and I have seen others so badly affected that they were never capable of working any more.

[Di-namic]

 

I’ll be outside Cole Brothers’ on Sunday morning proudly sporting my medals, and I will be thinking of ALL our soldiers.

Bless ‘em

 

 

I'll be in Barker's Pool this Sunday,with friends,paying my respects.

sometimes we go to London, it's so moving.I'm proud to be there to say thank you to you all.

[soft ayperth]

Sad to hear abt the situation in Australia, helbco. Maybe it's just over here that remembrance day is well profiled. I lived for many years in Newfoundland, which has been a province of Canada since 1949, but before then was a British colony. On July 1, when the rest of Canada focuses on Canada Day, all the provincial flags (until recent years, the Union Jack) fly at half mast in remembrance of all the Newfoundlanders who lost their lives at Beaumont Hamel in WW1,. Almost an entire regiment was slaughtered. Then, of course, along with the rest of Canada, they commemorate Nov 11. Never hurts to say "thanks."

[medusa]

I'm a huge believer in there being 'right' times to actually face some facts and truths about the level of hardship and pain that others have faced to enable our present and future.

 

At least a part of Sunday will be spent watching (with a box of tissues) a few home truths about what (and who) Remembrance Day is all about. The day may also involve a visit up to the practice trenches that were dug by the Sheffield Pals regiment before they were all sent to their deaths.

[nosy nellie]

Out to France one day some tourist went.

The battlefields to see.

There they saw the wreck and ruin

of the fight for liberty.

One old soldier,digging graves there

Stopped his work and with his spade.

Proudly he stood to attention

O;er a grave he had newly made.

All the tourists stood and watched him

Why stand so?one of them said

Solemnly the soldier answered

My two minutes to the glorious dead

 

Two minutes of silence

Two minutes of prayer

Bow your head to the glorious dead.

Who lie in the graves out there

A world stood by in silence

In reverence we see.

To hero,s so brave

Whose lives freely gave.

Just to keep old Britain free.

 

I have seen them in the trenches

in the cruel frost and snow.

Standing there with bayonets ready

In two minutes o,er the top they go.

No complaints,a simple handshake

they were there to prove their worth

Best of luck was all they murmured

Perhaps their last words on this earth

And each wooden cross that I am fixing.

Says to all who pass by.

Side by side they fought together.

Side by side in death they lie.

Yes only two minutes of silence

not much as the hours speed by

But enough at times when needed

To prove how a Britain can die.

 

Enough for the heartbroken mother.

Who opens a message to learn.

That the lad who for years she had worshipped

Never more to her side will return.

 

Enough for the wife, now a widow

To gaze at her children and say.

God help us my darlings to bear it.

Your daddy was killed in the fray.

 

Enough for the gray haired old father

To learn of the death of his son.

And to say though his heart may be breaking.

Twas gods will and gods will will be done.

 

And i am out here digging graves now.

So that all who have suffered a loss.

May stand by a grave where he is buried

For two minutes prayer at his cross.

 

So thats why I stand to attention

Though to me it seems only too small.

To give two minutes to the departed

Who for Britain and Honour gave all,

 

Written at Serre. France. 1919.