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Its that time of year again. I wear my poppy with pride, but it has taken me on a line of thought. I may be being a little idealistic, or even somewhat daft, but I'll explain. Every year, I visit the

I saw a boy marching, with medals on his chest,  He marched alongside Soldiers, marching six abreast,  He knew it was Remembrance Day, he walked along with pride,  And did his best to keep in step wit

Lest we forget, not only the lads who didn't come back but those who grieved for them.   The interrupted romance   An evening stroll, a summer's night, a sweetheart and her beau,

Just seen the following poem on Facebook and found it very moving, reminding us that those who went to war had just the same emotions and feelings as our own teenagers... and the mothers.

 

 

As Time Goes On – A Poem

Now, and Then

IKEA homeware packed in boxes,
Heaps of stuff litter the hall, then squashed into the back of the car.
Last hugs, cheery goodbyes, the drive to uni.
Snippets of home, spread around the strange smelling room,
The lanky excited-scared almost man says goodbye,
And the mother remembers.
She remembers the feel of the bowling ball weight on her hip when she carried him,
The feel of his tiny hands on her cheeks when he offered snotty kisses,
The snuffle of breath as he slept against her shoulder,
She remembers the child as she looks at the man.
As she wishes him well, holds back tears until she has driven away.

Billycans and clothes stuffed in kit-bag,
A train to London packed tight, then bustle hurry find the right squad.
Last hugs, tearful goodbyes, a band plays on.
Heaving the bag, look around for friends joining too,
The lanky excited-scared almost man says goodbye,
And the mother remembers.
She remembers the feel of the bowling ball weight on her hip when she carried him,
The feel of his tiny hands on her cheeks when he offered snotty kisses,
The snuffle of breath as he slept against her shoulder,
She remembers the child as she looks at the man.
As she wishes him well, holds back tears until he has joined his unit.

The posts on Facebook show new friends and nightclubs,
Texts assure his food is fine, his studies easy.
He doesn’t discuss the drunken evenings, the sleepless nights, the fear of loneliness.
But his mother knows, she reads it in unsaid words and tired eyed photos.
And she waits. As life goes on.

There are no letters and the News shows little,
Bold battles move to the Front, the headlines proclaim.
They do not discuss the fallen comrades, the sleepless nights, the fear of injury.
But his mother knows, she reads it in unsaid words and tired eyed photos.
And she waits. As life goes on.

The war ends. The boy returns home.
Yet, not a boy, become a man.
A man who will not speak of horrors,
Will not discuss the stench of death,
The sight of his friends, falling.
The nights when he still hears the screams, still fears the dark.
But his mother knows, she reads it in sunken cheeks and, eyes so weary.
And she waits. As time goes on.

The term ends. The boy returns home.
Yes, still a boy, almost a man.
A boy who chats and loves to amuse,
Loves to debate the point of life,
Who meets all his friends, laughing.
The nights when they drink, talk at length, sort their beliefs.
And his mother knows, he is safe and content with life, has a future.
And she waits. As time goes on.

 

by Anne E. Thompson

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Lest we forget, not only the lads who didn't come back but those who grieved for them.

 

The interrupted romance

 

An evening stroll, a summer's night, a sweetheart and her beau,

   A posy gift, a peck on cheek, for Poppy from her Joe.

Been walking out for quite some time, they wore their Sunday best,

   There was talk of marriage soon, and place to make a nest.

 

As they walked hand in hand, through the perfumed garden,

   Aromas met at every turn, and none that they should pardon.

By silvery light their path was lit, by moon's bright countenance,

   Be gone you cloud, can't you sense, romantic ambience.

 

But fate decreed otherwise, 'twas year nine-teen sixteen,

   Joe received the Army's call, and fear from her was seen.

Should they haste their marriage, who knows what be his fate,

   Right or wrong, decided that, best that they should wait.

 

The selfish hand of warfare, will force them both apart,

   How cruel can be man's duty, with matters of the heart.

'Will you wait' Joe said to her, his heart abound with aches,

   'I will wait' said she to him, ' however long it takes.

 

In uniform of khaki, trained to show his willing,

   Joe boarded train with others who, accepted a King's shilling.

With tears on cheek, a hug and kiss, Poppy breathed a sigh,

   Joe went to France in cheerful song, and waved his last goodbye.

 

The letters they were regular, and told that he was well,

   In truth 'twas anything but, more like a living hell.

Then letters they stopped coming, she went to see his mam,

   With tears and trembling hand was, shown the telegram.

 

(pause)

 

Kneeling by the headstone, her posy down did lay,

   Traced her fingers through his name, in whisper she did say.

'Hello my dear, my darling Joe, I've waited true sweetheart,

   Now we are together, no more we be apart'.

 

In length and breadth of nation, such stories could be told,

   Families, sweethearts, friends alike, no more to have and hold.

For many they have no known grave, just name upon a wall,

   Gave their lives in answer to, a grateful nation's call.

 

Wherever be the ground they lie in, may they rest in peace.

 

 

  

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Before she met my Dad., my Mum had a boyfriend who was killed on HMS Hood when it exploded and sank in May 1941 with the loss of (I think) all but 3 hands. She kept his picture till the day she died.

 

Col

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Thank you for sharing such touching poems, and also The beautifully played "Last Post" found by Albert. 

Cols story and Chullas poem reminded me of how many lost romances and broken hearts were endured.

Just another romance killed off by war.

My mam was engaged to an airman, sometime during the war he lost both his legs, sadly he would not continue the courtship knowing in his mind the pressure that would be put on mam. This is all I know in detail as with so many of our older generation, they did not talk about things. They just got on with it.  If this sad event hadn't happened, I would not be writing this today. She found love again as she met her "Sailor Boy" whilst he was home on leave from HMS London. 

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Thanks carni. I did not want my poem to concentrate on the mass slaughter of that conflict, but to take an example of just one unfortunate soldier and his girl who was waiting for him. This, I believe, gave a poignancy to the poem and would pay a homage to the many who  waved their loved ones goodbye and never saw them again.

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Lest we forget.

 

I was in London yesterday and at 11am I was not far from Bomber Command Memorial (I couldnt actually get to the memorial in time) and stood crisply to attention at 11am. Head bowed. About a minute into the Silence an asian chap walked straight into me! An American lady did ask me what it was all about and she seemed to have little idea. 

 

I have been asked to trace a relative of someone at my local pub. Its her grandfather. All she had was his regiment and his surname. Amazing what you can find. So tomorrrow I am going to especially remember Pte Hugh Hayden of the 1 Inniskillings. I have compiled a small folio of documents downloaded and some regimental photographs so I will give this file to the lady in the pub tomorrow. 

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#108

 

Sadly it's not only people from other countries who don't seem to know anything about it these days! 

 

I shall be remembering my own family members today. Archie Saunt, KRRC, John Samuel Ward, Sherwood Foresters, Ernest Ward, Sherwood Foresters, William Thomas Sparrow, Norfolk Regiment, Charles Clarke, RAF. Also For Frederick H M Lewes, Sherwood Foresters, Duncan McBean, Highland Light Infantry.

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Today is Remembrance Sunday. For me this music is the finest to say goodbye to, be they soldiers or others. 

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I just getting up in readiness for the Remembrance Service on the Victoria Embankment. My first time since my father took me over 60 years ago.

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I had a great time on the Embankment this morning at the Remembrance Service. It was a beautiful morning and there were literally hundreds in attendance. Young, old and middle uns. Dozens of ageing mods on scooters and hairy bikers.

A wreath laying ceremony by the 'great and the good'. A few prayers, a hymn or so then it was over. Most people there had some ancestors or relatives who they had lost , but I think everybody seemed to have someone in their thoughts. 

My thoughts were with the old soldiers who have nobody in their lives with whom to reflect on today's proceedings. 

Also the fallen with no known grave such as my maternal grandfather who died on the first day of the Somme, and whose body was never found. The  unmarked graves of casualties in far flung corners of the world. Burma, the Far East, Japan, North Africa to the frozen regions of northern Norway.  At least my fraternal grandfather and an uncle have a grave albeit in Turkey. 

It was a thought provoking experience and one which I'll repeat next year.

I was fortunate enough to have a roast pork cob with stuffing and apple sauce  on the way home too. 

Im now watching the ceremony from the Cenotaph which I recorded this morning. 

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I saw a boy marching, with medals on his chest, 
He marched alongside Soldiers, marching six abreast, 
He knew it was Remembrance Day, he walked along with pride, 
And did his best to keep in step with the soldiers by his side.
And when the march was over the boy looked rather tired. 
A soldier said. "Whose medals son?" to which the boy replied,
"They belong to my Dad, but he did not come back. 
He died out in Afghanistan, up on a Helmand Track".
The boy looked rather sad, and a tear came to his eye, 
But the soldier said, "Don't worry son, I will tell you why," 
He said, "Your dad marched with us today, all the bloomin way. 
All us soldiers knew he was here, it's like that on Remembrance Day."
The boy looked rather puzzled, he didn't understand 
But the soldier went on talking, and started to wave his hand, 
"For this great land we live in, there's a price we have to pay, 
To keep our Country free, and fly our flag today.
Yes we all love fun and merriment in this country where we live, 
But the price was that some soldier his precious life must give. 
For you to go to school, my son, and worship God at will. 
Somebody had to pay the price, so our soldiers paid the bill.
Your dad died for us my son, for all things good and true. 
And I hope you can understand these words I've said to you". 
The boy looked up at the soldier and after a little while, 
His face changed expression, and he said with a beautiful smile,
"I know my dad marched here today, this our Remembrance Day. 
I know he did, I know he did, all the bloomin way!

RESPECT to our fallen comrades, RESPECT to those that have fought for our nation! 

 

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15 hours ago, Jill Sparrow said:

#108

 

Sadly it's not only people from other countries who don't seem to know anything about it these days! 

 

I shall be remembering my own family members today. Archie Saunt, KRRC, John Samuel Ward, Sherwood Foresters, Ernest Ward, Sherwood Foresters, William Thomas Sparrow, Norfolk Regiment, Charles Clarke, RAF. Also For Frederick H M Lewes, Sherwood Foresters, Duncan McBean, Highland Light Infantry.

 

 

Jill, it is the essence of remembrance. They are all real people who died. I wish to give faces to each of them, to show that they lived in places we know and love. It struck me the first time I visited a military cemetery in the Somme. The gravestones are a marker, but only that. There is a real person who lies below. Each one I research is fascinating. 

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On Saturday evening I went to Coventry Cathedral to see a performance of  Karl Jenkins' The Armed Man,A Mass For Peace.  The choir was St Michael's Singers, based at the Cathedral and directed by Paul Leddington Wright.  The Jaguar Land Rover Brass Band accompanied.  It was fantastic and very moving. The printed programme was excellent and it had an explanation of all the poetry and the musical structure.  Also it contained no advertising!  Behind us was the old Cathedral that was bombed 75 years ago tonight.  A dear friend and former work colleague of mine was living in Bedworth on the night of the bombing.  She was about 9 miles away from the city and she told me that the fires lit up the whole sky and it was terrifying.  I sat in the concert and thought of her and of all the people affected that night.  A special evening to remember.

 

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The Armed Man .....one of my favourite CDs . Would love to see a live performance .

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I'm glad you enjoyed the music Shirley.  Although I don't 'do' God as such I do like churches and cathedrals and also tend to respond to good choral music.

As a kid in the 50's/60's I visited Coventry often to see relatives. A visit to both the old Catheral and the new one under construction was always a feature.  Both were fascinatiing.  A climb up the old cathedral spire was always exciting and gave great views over the city as well as the gradual rise of the new cathedral.  I think you can still climb the old spire.

I remember a simple cross made from bits of old charred roofing timber that stood in the old cathedral.

The new cathedral is amazing. From the massive tapestry to the glass and right down to the pennies set into the floor (Looking pretty worn last time I was there.. maybe 20 years ago..) it was an inspiring place.

 

Here's my late Great Auntie Elsie in the old Cathedral around 1960.  She lived through the horrendous bombing of Coventry and I can barely imagine what she was thinking in this pic.

 

21294396056_f5f8dacff7_z.jpg

 

Col

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Early yesterday morning on the way to Manchester, I heard Lord Singh deliver 'Thought fo the Day' on BBC4.

 

It's taken me until now to find a transcript but here it is:


 

Quote

 

'Guru Nanak whose birth anniversary Sikhs celebrate today, was himself a witness to the savagery of conflict..

Yesterday’s service at the Cenotaph was a touching reminder of the tragic loss of millions of young lives in the first and second world wars and in numerous subsequent conflicts. Today we are all too aware that that lasting peace, based on universal respect for human rights, still remains a distant and elusive goal.

Guru Nanak whose birth anniversary Sikhs celebrate today, was himself a witness to the savagery of conflict, with forced conversions and atrocities. He was a man far ahead of his time. Instead of restricting himself to praying to God for peace, he also attacked the underlying causes of conflict, including supposed religious superiority and exclusive relationships with God; then used, and still used today to justify cruel and intolerant behaviour. The Guru in his very first sermon taught that the one God of us all was not in the least bit impressed by our different religious labels, but by what we do to ensure peace and social justice for our fellow human beings.

 

The Guru also criticised the belief that any one nation or group of people were inherently superior to those around them. He taught a belief in the equality and interdependence of all members of our one human family. Following the huge loss of life in the second world war, similar thoughts led to the creation of the United Nations and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

The reality of the world today is that while instant communications and interdependence in trade and commerce, push us to the realisation of a shared and common destiny, long engrained attitudes and prejudices, make it difficult for many to accept the new reality. We cannot have it both ways. We cannot be true to those, who, in the words of the Kohima Epitaph, ‘gave their today for our tomorrow’ unless we look towards a world that recognises an equal respect for all. It’s not easy to change deep rooted attitudes, but as Guru Nanak reminds us, it’s the only way to true and lasting peace.'

Lord Singh.

First broadcast 14 November 2016

 

 

Col

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1 hour ago, BilboroughShirley said:

#121 A lovely photo DJ360.  Thank you for sharing it and for posting the transcript of Lord Singh's thought for the day.

 

 

You are very welcome Shirley. It's a simple yet profound message, which seems to tax some people.

 

Col

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