Thought for the Day (Nov 10)

Subject: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Peter T.
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 09:51 AM

Won't be here tomorrow, so this for Remembrance Day, which means perhaps more to those peoples for whom the First World War was the great defining or destroying moment in their history; since Nov 11, 11th hour was originally set up in its commemoration. From one of the sentimental poems -- not Wilfrid Owen or Sassoon, but Binyon -- and really only for the second verse, which is so memorable. The whole thing is a potent mixture of truths and lies, but it was written in 1914, early. It does capture one mood of remembrance. Nobody writes like this anymore, thanks to 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918.

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 not grow 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.

... 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.

-- Laurence Binyon, For the Fallen (1914)

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: MMario
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 10:14 AM

This used to be read at Memorial Day services in my home town, along with "Flanders Field" and some other pieces.

Always sent a shiver up my spine then, and has again today.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Patrish(inactive)
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 10:33 AM

It reminds me of the rememberence day service that was on TV. Lots of uniformed men and women would stand still in a very large auditorium, someone would read the bit about "the going down of the sun" and "not growing old" and then there was silence. Thousands of poppy petals would be released and float down like red snow, landing on the soldiers and nurses and sailors, who were just standing. Even as a small child, the tears would pour down my face and I didn't know why. I do now and although I love poppies, they always make me sad.

Patrish

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Neil Lowe
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 10:57 AM

Thanks for posting a beautiful poem, Peter T. Happy Veteran's Day to fellow vets everywhere.

Neil Lowe

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Bert
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 12:30 PM

Patrish, The last verse of D-Day Dodgers always gets to me like that.

Look around the mountains, in the mud and rain
See the rows of crosses, some which have no name
heartbreak and sorrow are all gone,
the boys beneath them slumber on
They are the D-Day Dodgers who'll stay in Italy.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 01:53 PM

Thank you, from the bottom of my flabby bits, I've been looking for that poem for about 10 years, since I read it first working in a military museum...

I used to be one of the 'won't buy a poppy, won't propagate war' people, because I didn't understand exactly what the poppy was about. I would have worn a white one if I'd been able to get one (this is deepest darkest Dorset we're talking here, we haven't even got a motorway yet!), and always avoided wearing one unless I had to, but then I did 2 years working as a research assistant in the Dorset Military Museum. I have read some of the original war diaries, covered with the genuine mud and yes, even blood of Flanders Field. The versions you see as dramas, as published war diaries, as memoirs are like comparing the Simpsons Hallowe'en specials with Nightmare on Elm Street. There are no words to describe the sights those poor people saw, no photographs can do them justice, and thank God they only had black and white. My great great uncle was killed near Arras, less than 2 months before the end of the war, and this year I found his memorial. He doesn't have a grave, he is buried somewhere under the cornfields with 6 thousand other men. I never knew him, but having read the diaries of the Dorset Regiment who were stationed there at the same time, I can only pray he died cleanly and quickly. All I have is the fabled photograph in a brown leather frame, and an empty feeling whenever I see a poppy. We will remember...

Liz

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Freddie Fox
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 01:55 PM

Remembrance day is remembering those who died for their country, their countrymen/women, or a principle important to them. Remembrance day is remembering the horror and futility of war. Remembrance day is a time for trying not to let it happen again. One of my school friends died in the Gulf; I'm not old enough to remember much about Vietnam, or World Wars I + II at all.

Remembrance day is not about the glory of war, or potting huns, or wait until you see the whites of their eyes before you shoot [yes, I've heard them all] - it is a time for pride in those who hung on until death took them, and shame for those and ourselves who let it happen.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Nov 10)
From: Dave Swan
Date: 10 Nov 99 - 10:56 PM

Thanks for the poem, Peter. A lot of old men flew visited me in a hurry when I read that. My grandfather showing me a photo of himself in a campaign hat astride his horse, a great uncle who never got over being a "slacker" because his blindness kept him out of the trenches, a family friend who never recovered from the mustard gas, an uncle showing me the skein dubh recovered from what was left of his uncle in the trenches. None of them thought war was a good idea. They all wanted it to be the war which ended them all. We can't forget.