The 11th Hour of the 11th Day

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.

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

I think all of us on here will understand; whilst we may not all have served in the forces (one of my biggest regrets) we can appreciate the sacrifice a great deal of many young men and women have made for us throughout the years, are making now and will no doubt continue to do so into the distant future.

I was listening to the radio last night whilst at work and the usual debate was on that appears around this time of year regarding the red poppy V white poppy. One guy emailed in to say that he found it disgusting that anyone would wear a red poppy, choosing instead to wear the white poppy of peace rather than the red poppy of war!! Thankfully most of the callers understood the true meaning behind the red poppy though a few “pacifist” types did call in to agree with the twat! 👿

I’ve got a picture somewhere of the place where John Mcrae wrote that poem…….powerful stuff indeed, if anyone hasn’t been to the battlefields of WW1, its a truly humbling experience and worth a day or 2 out of the rat-race to get a semblance of what the human spirit can endure…….

One last thing, if anyone ever comes up to me to tell me i’m a disgrace for wearing my red poppy, it will take a great deal of restraint to stop myself chinning the fucker!

We must never forget!

sermon over, shake hands, go in peace and leave some cash in my collection dish 😉

God bless them all.

hardly dare to answer that question because it show my age 🙁 we should move this to the private part 🙂

20 years as a career infantry/special forces officer, last job was colonel-commanding of the Royal Grenadier Guards

Army=best club in the world 🙂

Lest We Forget

http://tz.nlincs.yhgfl.net/home/andy.bird.lea/storage/The-Green-Fields-of-France.mp3

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I’ve been walking all day, and I’m nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o’er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun’s shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that’s still No Man’s Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can’t help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you “The Cause?”
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.

blasted song makes me cry everytime

try listening to it without cutting onions