General Chat

let us not forget that India also took part in WW1 - one of my Dad's older brothers left a diary, which I sent ot the Imperial War Museum - in that diary he says "Today our Indians arrived" I was surprised as I had no idea they fought alongside us

Wilfred Owen's poem was published after his death in WW1.

Both my grandfathers served and my maternal grandfather had chest problems due to being gassed. He was 69 when he died due to chest problems.

My paternal grandfather was with the war horses and injured in 1915 hence my father's arrival in May the following year when he was back with the horses.

Both survived but I've found lot's of relatives doing my tree that never came back.

We will remember

To those of yesteryear and those who still serve thank you.

<3

“Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knocked-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys-An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the mist panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gurgling form the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as cud
Of vile, incurable sores on the innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.”
? Wilfred Owen

"Old soldiers, brave soldiers, no old brave soldiers"
- my GF

So I asked the landlady,
"Do you really think I'm crazy,
Spending my time in here,
Drinking down your watery beer ?".
Then she said that "Life's too short
To spend your time wrapped in worried thought.
Oh come on and drink up dear.
And lay your money down,
And lay your money down".

But I said "Well there must be more"
When some man said he fought in the war
For me and I was ungrateful
He said "Gimme another drink Mable
For all those good times then".
And Mable said "You can say that again".
And they did 'till they were unable.
They laid their money down,
They just laid their money down.

Come on and lay your money down
Come on and lay your money down.

Oh then in the following silence
I tried very hard to make sense.
Of the things that the man did say
When he turned and quickly walked away.
All he said was "Time is money, Oh I've got to go now" and I thought
"That's funny did he really risk his life for me ?"
Or just lay his money down,
He just lay his money down

Rallph McTell

Heroes everyone...

RIP.

We must tell our future generations of the courage shown.

I have attended a service on the village green this morning, the fallen were all named and remembered, the eldest was 28 and the youngest only 15 years old, :-(

RIP to every one of them.

Lest we forget......

We will never forget <3

100 years commemoration at the Tower of London

http://metro.co.uk/2014/08/03/tower-of-london-marks-wwi-centenary-with-dramatic-art-installation-4819866/

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

We will remember them.

Rest in peace our fallen heroes.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them

True heroes, courageous & showing us what valor really means.......

We Shall Keep the Faith

by Moina Michael, November 1918
Moina Michael


Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.

We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.

RIP.

RIP.

......to all those who suffered and gave their lives in the First World War, I offer the following:


In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


-John McCrae