Age shall not weary them

On Remembrance Say we should all read this poem in its entirety and think about what it says and means.

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

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.

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.

For the Fallen - by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), published in The Times newspaper on 21st September 1914.

Poppy wearing - how and when should you wear it?

A good video but remember please don't start wearing your poppy until the end of October and remember what wearing the poppy signifies.

Remembrance Sunday

The day we honour those in the armed forces who gave their lives for this country and also respect those who currently serve this country in its armed forces.

Waerning a poppy does not make you a warmonger as was shouted at me a few year back.
Wearing a poppy dos not mean you are anti-Islam as is being claimed in some areas of London and northern cities.
Wearing a poppy is the right thing to do.

For Armistice Day

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o'beer,
  The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
  The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
  I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play.

  I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
  They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
  They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
  But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

  Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
  Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
  An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
  Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy how's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

  We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
  But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
  An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints:
  Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

  You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires an' all:
  We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
  Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
  The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees!

Rudyard Kipling - 'Tommy'

This reminds me of one of my favourite witicisms, whose I do not know: 'Do you like Kipling? I don't know, I've never kippled...'

The Navajo Code Talkers

I was reminded today of the story of the Navajo Code Talkers, those 400 or so Navajo Indians who served in the US Marines during World War 2 and by using secret Navajo language-encrypted military terms helped the U.S. prevail at Iwo Jima and in many other Pacific theatre battles. It is accepted that the the code which they transmitted verbally by radio, thus keeping mission details secret, helped save many American lives and bring the war to a speedier conclusion.

I believe that there are only about 50 of the Navajo Code Talkers left alive and that 13 of them are attending the US Veterans Day parade in New York today. If you'd like to find out more about this fascinating and little known aspect of the Second World War then you should visit their website. As the site says:

"At a time when America's best cryptographers were falling short, these modest sheepherders and farmers were able to fashion the most ingenious and successful code in military history. They drew upon their proud warrior tradition to brave the dense jungles of Guadalcanal and the exposed beachheads of Iwo Jima."

Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day so at 11am on the the 11th of November please take two minutes to remember the dead and injured of the last 90 years.


I also like to say a prayer for world peace.



You might like to read Laurence Binyon's poem "For The Fallen"

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

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.

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.

It's Remembrance Sunday - think about what that means

Armistice Day

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 by Wilfred Owen

The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month - Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day is important especially as with every year that passes the percentage of people in this country who served in armed conflict decreases. I believe that there is now just one man who served in the trenches during the First World War, Harry Patch who still survives. The World War II veterans are now all in their 60s or older and so the young of today need to be reminded of those who died in order that they might live in freedom.







Incidentally, this year it is 25 years since the Falklands were retaken from the Argentinian invaders, maybe you should read this article about the many lies that have been accepted as truth about the sinking of the General Belgrano during that war and the actual truth.