WA2K Radio is now on the air

Love that little radio, panz.

and along the same line, listeners:

Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun.
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
Atta boy give em the gun.

Down we dive spouting our flames from under
Off with one helluva roar.
We live in fame or go down in flame,
For nothing can stop the army air corps.

Now it's the U.S. Air Force.

Hey, Brits. What about the RAF?

The most effective propaganda in the world is music.

Monday, January 17th, will be a Federal holiday. The banks and post offices will be closed So, too, perhaps the stock exchanges.
I spoke out against having a Martin Luther King holiday.
I thought it was a bad idea at the time and I think, now, it is still a bad idea.
I am a son of the South, someone who happened to be a liberal in that tortuous time when segregation was ending and integratration was finally institutuitionally getting started in schools, polling places, and so on.
Dr King was very influential in making that all happen.
I reckon I wish that, instead of putting so much effort into making his birthday a holiday, we could have done something better: on the weekend nearest, my mostly white church members could spend time with some of the mostly black congregations. And we could welcome in and be welcomed in by folks from the synagogue or mosque.

Instead, people will pull on the doors of the bank or post office, wondering why they are closed on a Monday.

(That was from johnboy, submitted to our op/ed desk at WA2K. He says that he certainly enjoys the music but invites other listeners to offer short commentaries on any subject that might not be appropriate for regular A2K).

John, The entire idea of WA2K is to feel free to feel free. Many people that I know felt the same as you, and it had absolutely nothing to do with bias. Many felt that it was patronizing at its worst.

Funny anecdote:

My friends, who now live in Virginia Beach, wanted to go to the pop shop (that's what the Jazz boys referred to as the liquor store) It just so happened that the store was closed in honor of Martin Luther King Day. Sooooo, they went to Virginia thinking that they could find one that was opened. They saw a sign on the door that said:

Closed for Lee Jackson Day. One turned to the other and said:

Who the hell is Lee Jackson?

Listeners, before I sign off for the evening, I would like to share this troubling news item with all of you:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=519&ncid=519&e=6&u=/ap/20050115/ap_on_re_us/national_id_card

Goodnight, from this portion of WA2K radio.

Yes it is, stirring matial music is fine.

It is instructive to read books like "Bomber" by Len Deighton. At one time in about 1942, the chances of coming back, for bomber crews operating over Germany, was 1 in 4.
Three missions on average, and your number was up.

Still, the sweetest song for Brits was "Over There", which was a sign that we had an ally to come to our aid.

Letty,

'scuse my ignorance - but who IS Lee Jackson?

Jimmie Lee Jackson
Jimmie Lee Jackson

Jimmie Lee Jackson was born in Marion, Alabama and through his untimely demise he played a major role in trying to win equal rights for African Americans. Jackson was shot when he went to help his mother and grandfather as State Troopers were viciously beating them in their attempt to stop a peaceful march to the Perry County courthouse. A state trooper shot Jackson in the stomach. There is a memorial held in Marion every year that commemorates the tragic murder of Jimmie Jackson.

Rev. James Reeb, Mrs. Viola Liuzzo and Jimmie Jackson were all murdered at night following demonstrations.

Jimmie Jackson was killed when James Reeb, a committed Unitarian white minister was fatally clubbed to the ground, They remembered how President Johnson sent flowers to the garret Mrs. Reeb, and his eloquent "we shall overcome" speech paused to mention that one person, James Reeb, had already died in the struggle. Some how the President forgot to mention Jimmy, who died first. The parents and sister of Jimmy received no flowers from the President The students felt this kneely. Not that they felt that the death of James Reeb was less tragic, but because they felt that the failure to mention Jimmy Jackson only reinforced the impression that to white Americans the life of a Negro is insignificant and meaningless.

Jimmy Lee Jackson was born in Marion, Alabama, in December 1938. A farm labour and church deacon, Jackson was active in the civil rights movement.

On 18th February 1965, Jackson, his mother, Viola Jackson, and grandfather, eighty-two year old Cager Lee Jackson, took part in a protest demonstration led by Reverend C. T. Vivian in favor of African American voter registration. State troopers attacked the marchers and both Jackson's mother and grandfather were hit with billy clubs. When Jackson went to help them he was shot in the stomach by a state trooper. Jackson was arrested and charged with assault and battery before being taken to hospital.

Jimmie Lee Jackson died of his wounds on 26th February 1965, at the Good Samaritan Hospital in Selma. After Jackson's death the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) decided to hold the Selma to Montgomery protest March in March 1965.

Thanks for that Bumble...I feel bad that I havn't heard of him. It's a sad story

Good morning, WA2K listeners and staff.

McTag. "Over There" was a rousing song:

Over there; over there
Send the word; send the word; over there.
That the Yanks are coming,
The Yanks are coming.
A drum drum drumming everywhere.
So beware,
Say a prayer
Send the word; send the word; to prepare.
We'll be over,
We're coming over.
And we won't be back til it's over
Over there.

My Gawd, I had forgotten that I knew that song. (all the lyrics may not be quite right)

BBB, thanks for that information. Didn't know about Jimmy Lee Jackson.
but the Lee Jackson Day to which I was referring was Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson--hence Lee-Jackson Day. So, smorgs and I both learned something new today.

There'll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover,
Someday, just you wait and see
There'll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover,
Someday, when the world is free.

The shepherd will tend his sheep
And the meadow will bloom again,
And Jimmy will go to sleep
In his own little room again.
There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover,
Someday, when the world is free.

There will be joy and laughter and love ever after,
someday, just you wait and see
There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover,
Someday, when the world is free.


They could die for their country,
but they couldn't give orders to men!

My Mum was in the WRAF!

Cheers! Was there ever a braver group of pilots than in the Battle Of Britain?

Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
and smile, smile, smile
While there's a lucifer to light your fag
Smile boys, that's the style
What's the use of worrying
It never was worthwhile, so
Pack up your...

She never saw active service (like most women) though,
she joined up after ther war (age)
she still walks like she's squarebashing though

I think women flew planes on delivery flights. There was a big airfield near here called Burtonwood, which received American aircraft for transfer to the south airfields (Lakenheath, Mildenhall) and into wartime service over Europe.

Biggin Hill. Were there any wartime airfields here which did not have three syllable names?

Panz, you amaze me. The white cliffs of Dover were composed of chalk, right?

Frankly, I had no idea that there was a woman's Air Force. How sad that it was a secret too well kept. Fantastic picture!

smorgs, Did your mom ever tell you any tales of her experience? If so, please share them with us and with our listeners.





When the Lights Go On Again All Over the World
Vaughn Monroe and His Orchestra
Written by Eddie Seller, Sol Marcus, and Bennie Benjamin

Peaked at # 1 in 1943
Competing version by Lucky Millinder hit # 12
Title song from the 1944 film

*When the lights go on again all over the world*
And the boys are home again all over the world
And rain or snow is all that may fall from the skies above
A kiss won't mean "goodbye" but "Hello to love"

When the lights go on again all over the world
And the ships will sail again all over the world
Then we'll have time for things like wedding rings and free hearts will sing
When the lights go on again all over the world

When the lights go on again all over the world

Hmmm. Not the best lyrics of that day and time. I remember that my older sister loved, "He Wears a Pair of Silver Wings". Why was it that the fly boys were the ones who got all the gal's attention?

I know what you mean Mctag, WHENEVER I go out with Ma, it's a running commentary on who was stationed where, burton wood (if we go to IKEA) and I daren't go near Levenshulme...then I get all about the Italian Prisoner's of war, and what was bombed during the Manchester blitz, McVities etc and how they really did bomb the chippy!

I can say, however, that my Mum thoroughly enjoyed it when the 'Yanks' were over sexed, overpaid and over here.

Maybe my Dad is really Gus!!!

Fantastic, all. I missed the in-between posts. Keep those commentaries coming in.

Tribute:
Evacuation of Dunkirk: A Poem
By Age Concern Library Leicester

Location of story: Dunkirk


This poem was submitted by Joyce Mills of Age Concern Library,Leicester, on behalf of Iris Fewkes and has been added to this site with her permission. The submitter fully understands the site's terms and conditions.


"Evacuation of Dunquecue"

Withdrawal orders had just come through,
Where we were bound for no one knew,
As time past by we heard the talk,
Of our destination being the beach at Dunquecue.

For days and nights on the country wide,
The troops on foot fought side by side,
While on roads in one unending line,
The convoys race against father time.

Hedges and roadside we know its true,
Were strewn with guns and vehicles too,
But no one seemed to think of the loss or gain,
Their thoughts were one, to live and fight again.

The weary trek was oh! so long,
But the allied troops were still in song,
The thought of loved ones there at home,
Gave British tommies no want to roam.

A ruined mass was what we saw,
When at last we reached the Dunquecue Shore,
The blazing docks with their reddish light,
Give guide to see us thought the night,

But what a sight there was in store,
The boys in blue and ships galore,
The Air Force too did play their part
In the Epic of Dunquecue right from the start.



Written by a member of the Enniskillen Fusiliers recuperating in Leicester in 1941 and given to Iris.

Listeners, Never saw this poem before. Still trying to locate the poem "Lunch on Omaha Beach". I thought it was written by Auden, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Perhaps our research folks can locate it in our archives.

Heard something advertised on the radio the other day (I'll keep you posted on when it's coming) about the child evacuees during the war. My Mum was evacuated to Alderley Edge and had a miserable time. Anyway, of the thousands of children evacuated...26 were never reclaimed!? How sad, how do those people feel now, I wonder...

They are compiling a database.

Smorgs, among the sad episodes of the war is one that affected our family.
The British government decided to "Collar The Lot" and my father who had escaped Nazi persecution in Austria was rounded up and shipped on the HMS Dunera to Australia where he was interned.

http://www.inishowenonline.com/arandora/collar.htm

"COLLAR THE LOT"

The British War Cabinet was already in place and decisions were taken at the highest level to round up undesirable aliens who could possibly pose a threat to Britain, now in the throes of war.
Little or no consideration was given to their long term residence in the country, their contribution to the hotel, restaurant, cafe, engineering and many other industries over many years.
"Collar the lot," Churchill demanded! The trauma that families, friends and relations went through at that time was a continual nightmare for them, as secrecy and swift internment took precedence over everything else.
The round-up of aliens/internees continued and they were billeted in army camps, hotels, holiday camps; anywhere that could be found, just as long as they were out of circulation and away from the public and their families.