The Soldier
Rupert Brooke
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
7 comments:
dulce et dulcorum est pro patria mori
never forgotten
My dad ran away to join the army in 1938 when he was just 16 years old. He wanted to learn how to play music (he could play the French horn, euphonium and cornet). Then war broke out less than a year later. He was at Dunkirk (last hospital ship out having taken on board shrapnel from a German shell that killed the rest of his mortar squad when he bent down to pick up a shell), fought his way across North Africa and then Italy, taking in Monte Cassino on the way. He was in Palestine, Korea and Cyprus. He had enough very close shaves to be considered the owner of a charmed life and considered himself lucky to have survived it all.
He did attend Remembrance Day parades but he was always tight lipped. He lost so many friends in the 22 years he served that a part of him died right alongside them. To see his sacrifices and those of everyone else pissed away by those who ought to be preserving our freedoms is a disgrace. Some people currently sporting a poppy do not have the right to wear one because they are traitors. It's just as well Dad's no longer around to see what he fought for and bled for destroyed so treacherously.
But what do I know about the greater good of the Euroslime that our so called political "elite" has so profoundly surrendered to. I'm only a "little Englander" after all.
At first I thought Lynne's comment, although correct in every detail, was too long for a t-shirt. Then I thought 'Get a grip; get a bigger t-shirt'.
I could not possibly agree more, or more sadly, with the two highlights.
To see his sacrifices and those of everyone else pissed away by those who ought to be preserving our freedoms is a disgrace.
It's just as well Dad's no longer around to see what he fought for and bled for destroyed so treacherously.
So just put me down for "+1"
Well said Lynne ..
I proudly served in the Armed Forces of the Crown too ..
And I consider being referred to as a "little Englander" the highest praise which could be bestowed upon me ..
As Cecil Rhodes said in 1902 .. "To be born an Englishman means that you have won first prize in the lottery of life" ..(I count women amongst that august number too)
And here's why we all must remember...
http://tinyurl.com/39k8p2a
-- Boggle
Feh!
Brooke should have stayed home in Grantchester, eating honey and churning out romanticized tosh such as this instead of getting too involved.
Now, Wilfred Owen told it like it is...
Spot on Lynne.
My father in law was in 2 Para and was at the sharp end all the way from D Day to Berlin and Palistine beyond, liberating Belsen in between.
My Dad on the other hand had it cushty, cooking for a Catalina Flying Boat Squadron in Sri Lanka. He was ready to go, It wasn't his fault Sri Lanka was never attacked by the Japs. In consolation for missing the flying lead and shrapnel, be caught every tropical disease known to man. Disentry,Malaria etc etc.
Meanwhile Adolf was furiously jacking off in his bunker in Berlin.
Well it's always the wankers who start wars they leave the real men to finish isn't it?
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