Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 03:56 am
I was reminded of my annual thread by a program on Radio Australia this morning. Along with the narration, they had old recordings, exhorting us to "keep the home fires burning," among other rather innocent sentiments. For all the Englishmen, Germans, Scots, Frenchmen, Belgians, Italians, Austrians, Hungarians, Bulgarians, Turks, Russians; for all the people from so far away, the Americans, the Australians, the Canadians, the Japanese--for all those nations who suffered much or comparatively little, today is a day to remember. When i was child it was called Armistice Day, now it's called Veterans Day in the United States. In much of the English-speaking world, it is called Remembrance Day. Whatever it is called, the War to End All Wars, which sadly did not end war, was itself ended at 11:00 a.m., ninety-four years ago.

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


The author of the poem, with a friend, in Flanders, in 1917, just a few months before his death.
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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 06:57 am

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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 07:21 am
Why do we have it twice?
Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 07:49 am
it's two different songs, the second is a reprise with different lyrics and the same chorus, on the album horse soldier, the first starts the album the second ends it
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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 07:56 am

It was just before dawn one miserable morning
In black 'forty four
When the forward commander
Was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks held back
The enemy tanks for a while
And the Anzio bridge head
Was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives

And kind old King George sent Mother
A note when he heard that father was gone
It was, I recall, in the form of
A scroll, with gold leaf and all
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs hidden away
And my eyes still grow damp to remember
His Majesty signed
With his own rubber stamp

It was dark all round, there was frost on the ground
When the tigers broke free
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers, company "C" There were all left behind
Most of them dead, the rest of them dying
And that's how the high command
Took my Daddy from me.
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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 08:02 am
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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 08:08 am
two of my all time favourite songs about the war to end all wars, both written by eric bogle

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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 09:46 am
None of my relatives that I am aware of fought in the war. My Grandfather was sent to Paris, but the fighting there was over. I have long said that if I ever fought in any war, this would be it. It was a global monstrosity that had to be engaged by the whole world, once it was started. I salute the heroes and mourn the carnage.
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Reply Sun 11 Nov, 2012 11:20 am

Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
In the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.

Good-bye Max.
Good-bye Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.

A place to stay
"Oi! A real one ..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.

Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of his dream.
Take heed.
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