Betty a very pertinent posting I think and a subject I find fascinating, I too have had many a conversation with my grandad and many like him describing horrors that we can't even contemplate. Perspective is important here!
> Whilst you all kick over the traces of yesterday's shennanigans I'd like > you to consider the following statement by a certain General Kiggell: > > "Good God, did we really send men to fight in that?" > > It's 90 years since the Battle of Passchendaele. I for one can remember > as a boy the men and women I came across who had been touched by that > battle, my grandfather fought there and won a medal. I remember the > villages with childless women and no men of a similar age and I remember > the survivors' bewilderment at the dawn of the so called swinging > sixties. Those bemedalled old men in dark overcoats parading before the > cenotaphs on cold November mornings and granddad always ramrod straight > with a tear on his ruddy cheek. > > I find the rememberance of those poor brave souls who perished in the > mud and sheer hell of it all far more moving than any discussion of some > football club, which unlike so many will stumble along in the future, > come what may. > > For The Fallen > > With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, > England mourns for her dead across the sea. > Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, > Fallen in the cause of the free. > > Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal > Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres, > There is music in the midst of desolation > And a glory that shines upon our tears. > > 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 grow not old, as we that are left grow old: > Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn. > At the going down of the sun and in the morning > We will remember them. > > They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; > They sit no more at familiar tables of home; > They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; > They sleep beyond England's foam. > > 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 (1914) > > > _______________________________________________ > the Leeds List is an unmoderated mailing list and the list administrators > accept no liability for the personal views and opinions of contributors. > Leedslist mailing list > [email protected] > http://list.zetnet.co.uk/mailman/listinfo/leedslist > Join The Leeds United Supporters Trust at www.lufctrust.org > _______________________________________________ the Leeds List is an unmoderated mailing list and the list administrators accept no liability for the personal views and opinions of contributors. Leedslist mailing list [email protected] http://list.zetnet.co.uk/mailman/listinfo/leedslist Join The Leeds United Supporters Trust at www.lufctrust.org
