A Poem for Remembrance Day
"The inquisitive mind of a child"
Why are they selling poppies, Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today.
The poppies, child, are flowers of love.
For the men who marched away.
But why have they chosen a poppy, Mummy?
Why not a beautiful rose?
Because my child, men fought and died
In the fields where the poppies grow.
But why are the poppies so red, Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child.
The blood that our soldiers shed.
The heart of the poppy is black, Mummy.
Why does it have to be black?
Black, my child, is the symbol of grief.
For the men who never came back.
But why, Mummy are you crying so?
Your tears are giving you pain.
My tears are my fears for you my child.
For the world is forgetting again.Author Unknown
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
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Oscar Namechange
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
beautiful and so touching.:-1
Life is just to short for drama.
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
oscar;1256036 wrote: That's a fantastic Idea Minky.
By Co-incidence, Mr O's Grandfather and My Grandfather were both killed on the Somme, both aged 29 yrs old in the First world war. Mr O's Grandfather was shot In the head by the British Army because he attended a wounded German. My GrandFather was literally blown to Pieces.
So sorry suicide was the only way out for your cousin. Many think the war ends when the war is over. I know my own Father suffered his demons for the rest of his life also.
I myself will be manning a Poppy stall in a Supermarket all week and attending 3 seperate services. This year I am laying a Blue Wreath for the RAF.
There were hellish stories of my cousin not being able to sleep alone at his parents house, being afraid to sleep in a bed he had to curl up in a corner, he abadoned his wife and small child because the demons of war got the better of him. Sadly he was on one of the firstCanadian supply convoys that was attacked with a rocket launcher. He had serious burns to his hands and survived the attack but what got the better of him was the loss of his buddies. No matter how much help he got when he returned home he just could not cope. Truly awful stories of the grandfolks for you O. War sure is a hellish thing.
By Co-incidence, Mr O's Grandfather and My Grandfather were both killed on the Somme, both aged 29 yrs old in the First world war. Mr O's Grandfather was shot In the head by the British Army because he attended a wounded German. My GrandFather was literally blown to Pieces.
So sorry suicide was the only way out for your cousin. Many think the war ends when the war is over. I know my own Father suffered his demons for the rest of his life also.
I myself will be manning a Poppy stall in a Supermarket all week and attending 3 seperate services. This year I am laying a Blue Wreath for the RAF.
There were hellish stories of my cousin not being able to sleep alone at his parents house, being afraid to sleep in a bed he had to curl up in a corner, he abadoned his wife and small child because the demons of war got the better of him. Sadly he was on one of the firstCanadian supply convoys that was attacked with a rocket launcher. He had serious burns to his hands and survived the attack but what got the better of him was the loss of his buddies. No matter how much help he got when he returned home he just could not cope. Truly awful stories of the grandfolks for you O. War sure is a hellish thing.
�You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.�
• Mae West
• Mae West
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
minks;1256038 wrote: There were hellish stories of my cousin not being able to sleep alone at his parents house, being afraid to sleep in a bed he had to curl up in a corner, he abadoned his wife and small child because the demons of war got the better of him. Sadly he was on one of the firstCanadian supply convoys that was attacked with a rocket launcher. He had serious burns to his hands and survived the attack but what got the better of him was the loss of his buddies. No matter how much help he got when he returned home he just could not cope. Truly awful stories of the grandfolks for you O. War sure is a hellish thing.
Your cousin seems very similar to the Vietnam war Vets who killed themselves. It can be Unbearable torture for some especially those who see the real action and violence of war. And of course, their families suffer also and in your cousins case, have to carry on.
My Father was a man of very few words. I used to think that was just the way he was until shortly before he died and I told him how proud we were of him for his war effort. he simply said, Don't be proud, we killed people'. He never spoke of It as we grew up but I think it was then I realised how affected by the war he really was.
Your cousin seems very similar to the Vietnam war Vets who killed themselves. It can be Unbearable torture for some especially those who see the real action and violence of war. And of course, their families suffer also and in your cousins case, have to carry on.
My Father was a man of very few words. I used to think that was just the way he was until shortly before he died and I told him how proud we were of him for his war effort. he simply said, Don't be proud, we killed people'. He never spoke of It as we grew up but I think it was then I realised how affected by the war he really was.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
In Flanders the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce hear 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 the 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.
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce hear 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 the 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.
It's nice to be important,but more important to be nice.
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
mrsK;1256049 wrote: In Flanders the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce hear 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 the 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.
Thankyou Mrs K.... One of my favourites.
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce hear 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 the 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.
Thankyou Mrs K.... One of my favourites.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon
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Oscar Namechange
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- Joined: Wed Jul 30, 2008 9:26 am
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
The first stroke of eleven produced a magical effect.
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon
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Oscar Namechange
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
A very productive day today on my first day on the Poppy stall in a supermarket. Peter even managed to catch a burgler today when he came home for lunch.
Lovely to see so many young people giving generously today.
Lovely to see so many young people giving generously today.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
oscar;1256056 wrote: The first stroke of eleven produced a magical effect.
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
This is one of the most touching things I have ever read.
The poignancy is all the greater when you contrast these moving words to that
final comment. :-1
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
This is one of the most touching things I have ever read.
The poignancy is all the greater when you contrast these moving words to that
final comment. :-1
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Kathy Ellen
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
oscar;1256056 wrote: The first stroke of eleven produced a magical effect.
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
Oh, that made me cry Oscar. How can these people have such disrespect for our war vets:-1
This song always makes me cry with sadness....
YouTube - Ronnie Drew (R.I.P.) - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
On November 11th, I'll be at our local parade to honor our vets. We also have a special program for our local vets in school:-4
The tram cars glided into stillness, motors ceased to cough and fume, and stopped dead, and the mighty-limbed dray horses hunched back upon their loads and stopped also, seeming to do it of their own volition.
Someone took off his hat, and with a nervous hesitancy the rest of the men bowed their heads also. Here and there an old soldier could be detected slipping unconsciously into the posture of 'attention'. An elderly woman, not far away, wiped her eyes, and the man beside her looked white and stern. Everyone stood very still ... The hush deepened. It had spread over the whole city and become so pronounced as to impress one with a sense of audibility. It was a silence which was almost pain ... And the spirit of memory brooded over it all.
~~From the Manchester Guardian, 12th November 1919.~~
And now in 2009, our young urinate on their memorials.
Oh, that made me cry Oscar. How can these people have such disrespect for our war vets:-1
This song always makes me cry with sadness....
YouTube - Ronnie Drew (R.I.P.) - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
On November 11th, I'll be at our local parade to honor our vets. We also have a special program for our local vets in school:-4
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
My Son is a member of the Western Front Association and has visited various parts of France and Belgium. And in his job as a teacher, he's taken groups of kids to visit battlefields, cemetries and memorials there. One of his friends asked him about finding his Great Grandfathers name on the memorial at Ypres, so they decided to take a short break and visit. His friends Great-Grandfather served with the Connaught Rangers, and they set about finding his name on the memorial, which they duly did. I don't know if any of you know, but there is a memorial service carried out every night at the Menin Gate, the Police close the road to traffic at 8PM, and the last post is sounded by a bugler from Ypres fire station. Each night a regiment that took part in the conflict, is commemorated, and rather strangely, on that particular night it was the Connaughts, and 4 old boys, ex members of the regiment, had made the trip over. My Sons friend made himself known to them, and was welcomed as the Great-Grandson of a former colleague, and was invited to take part in the service alongside them. My Son, who is not given to great displays of emotion, said it was one of the most moving things he'd ever seen.
The memorial opened in 1927, there are 54,896 names of commonwealth soldiers who died without graves, the service has been carried out every night since. The only time it stopped was during occupation by the Germans during WW2, when it was conducted every day at Brookwood military cemetary in Surrey England. The ceremony was resumed on the very day Ypres was liberated by Polish forces, and continues to this day.
The memorial opened in 1927, there are 54,896 names of commonwealth soldiers who died without graves, the service has been carried out every night since. The only time it stopped was during occupation by the Germans during WW2, when it was conducted every day at Brookwood military cemetary in Surrey England. The ceremony was resumed on the very day Ypres was liberated by Polish forces, and continues to this day.
My dog's a cross between a Shihtzu and a Bulldog... It's a Bullsh!t..
11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
It's a solemn thing to honour the dead.
But lets honour them by living and fighting for what they died for! Dam it!
But lets honour them by living and fighting for what they died for! Dam it!
~Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!~
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11th of the 11th.... Where will you be?
Another excellent day's takings Poppy Collecting. Young and old giving generousely. One young man with missing limbs was in tears as he put £40 in the tin. Again, Heartwarming to see so many young put their money in the tins and wear a poppy. Briefly marred by two absolute brats who pestered the stall for quite some time. A lad aged about 8 years old asked me If I would pin the poppy on his coat. He then left but returned shortly to tell us that his coat had a pin hole in it and we were responsible for buying him a new coat. Yeah.. On yer bike !!! Then his sister pretended to put money in a tin, took a poppy, then told us she didn't want It and demanded her money back!!!!! Some-one is breeding these children !!! Over-all a good day again and I'm pleased to say that children like that are rare. Also heartwarming to hear fathers explaining to very young children what the poppies were for.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. R.L. Binyon