Try as I might, I will never comprehend how they did what they did, and the horrors in which they did it. They hid their scars as best they could when they came home, saving those "truths" for the Legion with those who had also earned the right to share.
I had an uncle who was a wireless operator on Halifaxes with 426 Squadron. 36 missions over Europe that I have been able to trace. Sadly, his stories passed with him, but the reunion he had with his pilot, whom he hadn't seen for decades, on his 80th birthday brought tears to everyone's eyes. Brothers forever.
Thanks for sharing this poem. I find it and others like it, center me, help ground me. Oh, I will go back to what I was doing soon enough but for a brief moment, I was with the author, seeing the good and the oh-so bad.
I looked up the poem I misquoted somewhat. It's obscure, Canadian, 1914 and, in my opinion, excellent - if only for it's suffocating imagery. Here's the more accurate version
Another Canadian WW 1 poem (as I remember it):
Battle's grim dormitory this
And filled is every bed
None may leave his place
To take the roll call of the dead
Yet, as I lie here silently, I think
I would be twenty-three
At twenty I was killed
Oh you who love me, whom I love
Do not forget this day
As long as you are above
And I beneath the clay
I wish Canada was what Canada was. I remember that also.
We can skip that today.
True.
I think you can honour both. Well said.
Many thanks for this outstanding contribution to the day. Nowlan nailed it!
Try as I might, I will never comprehend how they did what they did, and the horrors in which they did it. They hid their scars as best they could when they came home, saving those "truths" for the Legion with those who had also earned the right to share.
I had an uncle who was a wireless operator on Halifaxes with 426 Squadron. 36 missions over Europe that I have been able to trace. Sadly, his stories passed with him, but the reunion he had with his pilot, whom he hadn't seen for decades, on his 80th birthday brought tears to everyone's eyes. Brothers forever.
Thank you, I was just about to leave for my local Remembrance Day ceremony when I took the time to read this. A great way to start the day
Thank you
Also memorialized in song by Canadian singer songwriter Neville Quinlan of NQ Arbuckle.
What a lovely poem! My father fought through France and Holland with the Canadians.
thanks for the great words
Thank you.
Thank you. This is a great way to remember.
Thanks for sharing this poem. I find it and others like it, center me, help ground me. Oh, I will go back to what I was doing soon enough but for a brief moment, I was with the author, seeing the good and the oh-so bad.
A tear forms.
And it was good.
Poem for a Fallen Canadian
Battle’s grim dormitory this
And filled is every bed
And none may leave his place, or miss
The roll call of the dead.
Yet as I lie here silently
I think, if fate had willed,
Today I had been twenty-three
At twenty I was killed.
Oh you who love me, whom I love
Do not forget this day
Though all the years you are above
And I beneath the clay.
I looked up the poem I misquoted somewhat. It's obscure, Canadian, 1914 and, in my opinion, excellent - if only for it's suffocating imagery. Here's the more accurate version
Thank you for creating a pause in our feed for this reflection. It is humbling.
Thank you.