Remembrance Day - 2008 (Merged)

[Kiting for Boys]

Thanks for the link.

A good effort from the Beeb

[WE Branch Fanatic]

Time to bring this thread back to life.

Lest we forget.

[Jordan D]

Very true. Lest we forget indeed. I have to say that this year, I am honoured to take part in the parade at Old College in Edinburgh, as a member of a senior University Committee. I look forward to my annual chance to pay my respects to the great men and women of this country.

Jordan

[Epsilon minus]

Shakespeare wrote many a rousing speech but one of my favourite and one that lends itself to this time of year is the St Crispin day speech Henry V

King
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Pprune Pop
Would change the title on this thread to 2005 please
EM

[shoutingwind]

I was in London this year for the VE/VJ day events, and during the final event at Horse Guards they played the last post. I couldn't help but burst in to tears- last time i'd heard it played i was in Basrah watching a repatriation but without revalee. An old lady in front of me took my hand and held it throughout the two minute silence, while tears streamed down my face.

I remember those who have gone before me and who gave their youth to give me freedom, and now i am giving my youth. Young and old- we are all touched be the pain of War. I will not forget, we must all remember them.

[The Proctologist]

Let us remember those that are giving their lives now as well those that gave theirs for our freedom.

As the old man said 'one of us may be next!'

[opsguy10]

One of the most worthwhile posts.

My grandad served with the BEF in Dunkirk and was one of the ones to get away to go on to fight in Burma. My dad has always made me aware of what he did and I will make sure when it becomes my turn to have children I will make sure they are made aware.

They deserve our upmost respect both to the guys of then and the servicemen and women who put their lifes on the line now so people like myself can live our lifes in safety.


Opsguy

[Epsilon minus]

A Pathfinder at Peenemunde Sam Hall

A Minister was given the job of running the Peenemunde raid by Churchill, Duncan Sandys. We were told that it was such an important target that if we didn't get it that particular night, we'd go back until we did. For me it was one of the most memorable raids. In the Pathfinder force you had to be accurate. Your target indicators had to go down on time because the rest of Bomber Command, the main force, was waiting to see those target indicators at the time that they'd been told. Now in order to achieve your timing, you had to keep time in hand in case the winds were such that you couldn't get there at the time you expected. When you got near the target you had to get rid of that time, and one way of doing it was to do dog-legs. You would go 60 degrees to the left, say, for 2 minutes and then come back 120 degrees, and by doing that you'd have an equilateral triangle for every 2 minutes. For every 2-minute leg you lost 2 minutes along the main track. That wasn't the best way of losing, but most people did it.But in our aircraft I had an arrangement with my pilot whereby I'd say a 1-minute turn or a 2-minute turn, and he would do a 360-degree turn and then go back on track.That would get rid of the time in one fell swoop. We did this in front of the thundering herd of Bomber Command behind us, but we reckoned it was worth it. We did that manoeuvre that night and it saved our lives. When we straightened up I decided to have a look at the war, pulled the navigator's curtain back, and immediately a German fighter came across our nose so close I could see the crosses under the wings and the wheels in place. The fighter had committed himself to a curve of pursuit against us in such a way that he'd expected us to be 4 miles further on and he couldn't reorganise his curves to get behind us. After we'd bombed, the mid-upper gunner said, "There's a fighter coming in! It's got a Lanc, it's got another, it's got another!" Three Lancasters were going down in flames. You didn't waste too much time thinking about it. So many things were going on - all sorts of lights in the sky, flashes on the ground. I knew the first Master Bomber on that raid. When he got back to Wyton he was still bathed in perspiration. He'd had to fly above the target for the whole extent of the raid.'

Sam Hall,
Bomber Command Pathfinder navigator

With Dimbleby aboard John Gee

'The army was bogged down about 10 or 15 miles short of the Rhine. February came and they were anxious to break out because V2's had been bombing the south of England. The armies were going to make their final push to get across the Rhine, and Bomber Command was asked to knock out a number of targets in front of the army. Cleve was one of them.

Cleve was a little town about 4 or 5 miles west of the Rhine, 10 miles from Nijmegen. There were 295 Lancasters and 10 Mosquitoes from B Group, and we had to bomb this target because it was thought to be a road and rail junction. The town had been virtually destroyed anyway, but it was a place where Panzer reinforcements might be brought up to resist the army push. Cleve was only just in front of our own front line troops, so we had to be jolly careful that we didn't bomb our own troops.

The weather forecast was good. There was no cloud about. Richard Dimbleby came up to Scampton that day, along with his engineer and his recording equipment. As I was the senior officer flying from 153 Squadron that night I was nominated to take him. I had two extra bodies on board which made us quite a lot overweight, so to reduce it we ditched some gallons of petrol. I was tickled pink to have him with me. He came up to the squadron and we sat with him and had a meal before we took off. He was a big chap, and of course when he sat alongside me the flight engineer. who would normally be there, had to stand behind and operate all his gauges and things. We were a bit pushed. You couldn't really get past in the fuselage with all the recording gear. He had an engineer to operate it. He had to squat down in the fuselage. I can't imagine anything worse than squatting in a Lancaster for 4 or 5 hours waiting to operate equipment for probably no more than 5 minutes.

It was only when we got near the target that he started to make his commentary. We were flying at 11,000 feet and couldn't see a thing I thought, "What are we going to do? We can't drop our bombs on our own troops. "Suddenly we heard the Master Bomber calling us down below 4,500 feet. If you can imagine 295 Lancasters coming down from 17,000 to 4,500 feet through cloud. Why there was no collision I just don't know. Now they talk about a near miss if an aircraft goes within 10 miles of another. There were 295 near misses there all at one time.

There below us was Cleve, and the target was marked by the Pathfinders and searchlights were reflected off the cloud - it was like daylight. And you could see the Lancasters coming out of the cloud like darts. Then we had to bomb the target from 4,500 feet. The bombs were exploding and the aircraft was being bounced all over the place. Richard Dimbleby made his commentary, which was broadcast the next day on BBC radio. We knocked Cleve out completely, so much so that when the army advanced the next day there were so many bomb craters and so many broken roads that it quickly came to a halt.'

John Gee,
Bomber Command pilot

[London Mil]

I, like many, lost relatives in both the Great War and WW2. On Sunday, I will remember not only the sacrifice that these people made, but I will also think about some closer friends and colleagues that we have lost in the more recent past. Some names that many may recognise:

Paul Adams
Dave Sunderland
Phil Brewer
Jim McMenamy
Rick Cook
CJ Weightman
Pete Stone
Mike Andrews
Richie Rees

There are more, but, for whatever reason, each of the above will return to me for two minutes this Sunday.

[short&shapeless]

London Mil, a large proportion of your list recalls my time at Gutersloh - I too often think of Ada, Pete and Jim.

And who can forget Rick whilst Brian's Thread has to be kept going.

I will be at the local Memorial this Sunday paying my dues to those who are no longer with us.

"servicemen just pawns on some other b**gers Chess Board".

S&S

[Zoom]

What amazes me about the anecdotes from the various wars, WWI & WWII in particular, is the matter-of-fact way in which they are told. It all seems almost ordinary and routine. My father wrote a short piece at the time of his experiences in Burma and it came across as just a few days of doing what he was paid for. This included his being wounded by a Jap (sic) sniper and carted off to be 'patched up'. It's only Hollywood, Elstree, Ealing and the rest that give war the Wow! factor.

[Tracey Island]

Thanks for this thread.

It has been mentioned before in another thread but I defy anybody not to have been moved by last night's BBC programme "The Last Tommy." If only our political Lords and Masters on both side of the House of Commons had even a smidgen of these Tommies' fortitude, incorruptibility and gallantry what a marvellous country we'd live in.

We can live in hope s'pose....

[C130 Techie]

Tracey Island

Here, Here

I fear however that we live in a different age now where such values mean little.

It is sad that so so many gave their lives fighting for those values that seem so often undermined today.

I hope against hope that they did not die in vain.

[soddim]

Not only are those values undermined but the way we treat our ex-service people is also a national scandal.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/low/uk/4425248.stm

Why should so many who gave so much have to live on so little?

[vstol1]

Two fitting poems I had not seen before.

THE FINAL INSPECTION


the soldier stood and faced God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.



"Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My Church have you been true?"



The soldier squared his shoulders and said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.



I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough.

And sometimes I've been violent,

because the world is awfully rough.



But, I never took a penny,

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime,

When the bills got just too steep.



And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God, forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.



I know I don't deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.



If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand.



There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod.

As the soldier waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.



"Step forward now, you soldier,

You've borne your burdens well.

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets;

You've done your time in Hell."


~Author Unknown~




It's the Soldier, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press.

It's the Soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.

It's the Soldier, not the politicians that ensures our right to Life,
Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

It's the Soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.

[shandyman]

vstol1: nice poem, thanks for posting. Couldn't agree more with the sentiment at the end regarding freedom of speech etc.

[Circuit Basher]

London Mil - bit late coming back on this one.

One name on the list had particular personal memories - I was on IOT (same flight) as Dave Sunderland. Saw in Air Clues a few years later that he got a green endorsement in his log book for some act of derring do, flying a Tonka. Next I saw was that he was one of a Tonka crew brought down in GW1, IIRC. RIP, Dave.

[grusome]

For those Englishmen who now only think of Aussies as serious sporting opponents, I would like to illustrate an aspect of earlier life. It is hard for me to believe that your Government has seen fit to declare us alien when you look at these sentiments - and indeed the consequences. Both young men had only recently left school - Scotch College, Melbourne. Australia's top scoring pilot of WWI, Robert Little, also left this school to go directly to war. He failed to return.

For England

The bugles of England were blowing o'er the sea,
As they had called a thousand years, calling now to me;
They woke me from dreaming in the dawning of the day,
The bugles of England - and how I could stay.


The banners of England, unfurled across the sea,
Floating out upon the wind, were beckoning to me,
Storm-rent and battle-torn, smoke stained and grey,
The banners of England - and how could I stay?


O England! I heard the cry of those that died for thee,
Sounding like an organ voice across the winter sea;
They lived and died for England, and gladly went their way,
O England! O England! how could I stay?

-J. D. BURNS, May 1915

James Drummond Burns, died 18 September 1915, buried in Shrapnel Valley at Gallipoli. He never did see England.



Boyd Cunninghame Campbell Thomson is buried at Flers in France. He wrote:

To The Mother School

Mother, thy blessing! the time has come
To follow the rest of thy stalwart sons
Forth, to the sound of the rolling drum,
So soon to be lost in the roar of guns,
Where the banner of Britain to glory runs.
Mother, thy blessing! the time has come.

Mother, thy blessing! before we go,
Leaving all that is dear to heart,
Love of the home and the fireside glow,
Love of music and delicate art -
With these and more it is hard to part;
Mother, thy blessing! before we go.

Mother, thy blessing! for life was sweet,
Sweet with the love of a thousand things,
And every hour that sped so fleet
Flung a flood of joy, as the morning flings
The light of life from its radiant wings.
Mother, thy blessing! before we go.

Mother, thy blessing! we want for thee,
"Twas little to give, but much to lose;
But how could we think of thee else than free,
While supple of sinews and strong of thews?
How could we falter, or worse - refuse?
Mother, thy blessing! we want for thee.

Mother!, our brothers have gone before;
They call - they call us to join the fray,
And shadows of faces that are no more,
The faces we loved so, cold and grey,
Cry loud for vengeance; how can we stay?
Mother!, our brothers have gone before.

Mother! Thy blessing! and then good-bye!
While you wish for your sons a happier aim
Than that a man go forth to die
For a faith that is more than an empty name,
For a faith that burns like a scorching flame,
Mother! Thy blessing! and so good-bye!

August, 1915

And for what it is worth, this day at the school a new scholarship was instituted to commemorate Hugh Syme, GC GM and Bar.

Lest We Forget

[nutcracker43]

PPrune pop,

Belsen was not an extermination center although it was a concentration camp. Agree with you though that it was an abomination.

NC43

[Rakshasa]

For those Englishmen who now only think of Aussies as serious sporting opponents, I would like to illustrate an aspect of earlier life. It is hard for me to believe that your Government has seen fit to declare us alien when you look at these sentiments - and indeed the consequences.

Times have certainly changed. I've met some top aussies, both in the service and out. But sadly I've also met far too many sporting an illogical pom hating chip on their shoulder.

Readin those, I find it sad in a way how far both countries have become estranged.