Don’t forget 11am today

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Anthem For Doomed Youth
Wilfred Owen

As the team’s head-brass flashed out on the turn
The lovers disappeared into the wood.
I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm
That strewed an angle of the fallow, and
Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square
Of charlock. Every time the horses turned
Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned
Upon the handles to say or ask a word,
About the weather, next about the war.
Scraping the share he faced towards the wood,
And screwed along the furrow till the brass flashed
Once more.
The blizzard felled the elm whose crest
I sat in, by a woodpecker’s round hole,
The ploughman said. “When will they take it away?”
“When the war’s over.” So the talk began—
One minute and an interval of ten,
A minute more and the same interval.
“Have you been out?” “No.” “And don’t want
to, perhaps?”
“If I could only come back again, I should.
I could spare an arm. I shouldn’t want to lose
A leg. If I should lose my head, why, so,
I should want nothing more. . . . Have many gone
From here?” “Yes.” “Many lost?” “Yes, a good few.
Only two teams work on the farm this year.
One of my mates is dead. The second day
In France they killed him. It was back in March,
The very night of the blizzard, too. Now if
He had stayed here we should have moved the tree.”
“And I should not have sat here. Everything
Would have been different. For it would have been
Another world.” “Ay, and a better, though
If we could see all all might seem good.” Then
The lovers came out of the wood again:
The horses started and for the last time
I watched the clods crumble and topple over
After the ploughshare and the stumbling team.

Edward Thomas.

Indeed.

Remember all those who have been affected by Wars.

I went to the ceremony with Madame. They don’t fire the guns anymore.

But

Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori

Isn’t it?

I took part in school production of “Oh What a Lovely War”. A sobering experience!

If you want to find the old battalion,
I know where they are, I know where they are, I know where they are
If you want to find the old battalion, I know where they are,
They’re hanging on the old barbed wire,
I’ve seen ’em, I’ve seen ’em, hanging on the old barbed wire.
I’ve seen ’em, I’ve seen ’em, hanging on the old barbed wire.

Slightly different take.
Always emotional.

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnFzztSfppA[/video]

.. that last drawn out “whose…” in particular.

Stood for a minute in Grizedale Forest. Lovely silence and views until a jet flew past Wetherlam ten minutes later

I was commuting so I stopped by the roundabout going into Rotherhithe tunnel lol. Not the quietest two minutes but i was glad I did it nonetheless 🙂

Had a colleague start talking to me at 10:59:50! I said come back in 2 minutes and he looked suprised but respected my request.

Having lost friends I always insist on the 2 minutes it’s the very least I can do.

double up
[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKoJvHcMLfc[/video]
For most us born when we were this stuff is unimaginable and it’s difficult to see that the world is as it is because of the sacrifice of others. It just seems that it is logical that it is like this

it’s sobering to visit places like Ypres

leftyboy – Member
it’s the very least I can do.

haha, aye, pretty much the minimum. 😆

MCJnr plays in a wind band and they performed Nimrod at the Menin Gate when they toured Belgium in the summer. The music centre reposted a video of it on their Facebook page today, very moving.

Though the sound under the arch doesn’t do them justice.

He was here last year & he’s here again this year.

My Grandad.

This time of year always makes me emotional. Not for any single man lost but for all those lost in all wars on all continents and all countries.

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

A very fine piece there by George Butterworth who was killed at the Somme.

He was a morris dancer too (2nd from left)

I had to walk away and not say anything yesterday.
Chievely Services, loads of service personnel about in uniform.
Bunch of wide mouth frogs effin an jeffin and laughing whilst sat outside Greggs.
Utter lack of any understanding as to why they where nearly filled with their sausage rolls .
Cockwombling thundertwunts

We stopped in a small town, on our way to Edinburgh.

There was a couple of old folk at the war memorial, a few more joined and at just before 11 a Next wagon came around the corner (memorial like many is on the main road, A68).

The driver saw us stood there and just stopped his wagon in the middle of the road and switched off his engine, the queue of vehicles behind had no choice to do anything else. After 2 mins we all waved him a thank you, and he carried on his way. Top man!

Hearts train on our campus and most years I see them, this is the thing that makes the biggest connection for me now that my grandparents are gon… sometimes the first team, sometimes youths or reserves or kids. The trainer always gets them together for 11am and gives them a wee speech and then they do the silence…

Macrae’s Batallion was a Pal’s Batallion and the first of the sporting batallions- half of the Hearts team signed up. So if this was 1914, chances are those kids training would have signed up, and half of them would never come home (4 killed in a single day on the somme)

I preparation for tomorrow, I’ll hand it over to Paul Nash to embody War.

bikebouy – Member
I preparation for tomorrow, I’ll hand it over to Paul Nash to embody War.

And I’ll add John Keane.

The respect shown by the five hundred pupils in the school that I work in was impressive. It always is.

… pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Just back from our village service. Really nicely done with various locals doing readings of letters and first hand accounts from the trenches and from civilians. Some members of the local horse regiment were attending, reminding us that unfortunately it isn’t all about the past.

My 5yo was a flag bearer for the Beavers. Very proud.

(Slightly less impressed with the guy in the council van who sat in the closed road with his noisy engine running right through the two minute silence 😐 )

Am in Singapore at the moment. Church bells rang at two minutes past eleven. I was in a quiet garden. Peaceful and pensive.

This was read out in the service today:

‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the General said

When we met him last week on our way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,
And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
‘He’s a cheery old card,’ grunted Harry to Jack
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.
* * *
But he did for them both by his plan of attack.

My eyes had been struggling for a while but instantly became overcome with the dust in church. Been reflecting on the very moving service all day.

This gets me every time I hear it …

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qw02WwiUD8Q[/video]

Yes, Sandwich indeed.

I always think about that one too…