I realise that may be a bit insensitive on this thread.
But me n ben get on well and humour should always be at the forefront of,our minds.
But me n ben get on well and humour should always be at the forefront of,our minds.
Fatty
my grandfather was a corporal with the east yorkshire regiment. he married on halloween, less than a fortnight before the war ended. he died in the mid-60s, after spending the last years of his life bedridden after a back operation went wrong, leaving him partly paralysed. nowadays there would be compensation, i guess.
i'm no expert, but the stupidity of the generals and majors astonishes.
the final scene of blackadder goes forth is possibly the most powerful and evocative piece of television i can recall.
my grandfather was a corporal with the east yorkshire regiment. he married on halloween, less than a fortnight before the war ended. he died in the mid-60s, after spending the last years of his life bedridden after a back operation went wrong, leaving him partly paralysed. nowadays there would be compensation, i guess.
i'm no expert, but the stupidity of the generals and majors astonishes.
the final scene of blackadder goes forth is possibly the most powerful and evocative piece of television i can recall.
Has special resonance for me when you see a grave, with a message from a child for their lost father; or you read or hear a snippet of their day, their time.
Here are the young men…
Heartbreaking.
My great grandfather fought in the trenches. He died not long after I was born so I don't remember him but I do have a picture of him with me sitting on his lap. That connection is incredibly important to me.
In my opinion, every school-kid in the country should make at least one trip to one or more of the countless war cemeteries spread across France and Flanders. I've done several such trips and never fail to be amazed and moved by the sheer number of head stones and/or crosses on show. Nothing brings home the futility of war as much as the sight of so many graves and/or lists of names of men whose lives were taken way too young. And it wasn't even the "war to end all wars" it was promised to be.
Last year I travelled over for the 100th Anniversary of Oppy Wood to honour the memory of the Hull Pals' action of May 1917. During the trip I also got chance to mark the graves of all but 2 of the 11 men remembered on the First World War memorial in my own village. It's a trip recounted on my blog if anyone's interested! Tonight I'm away to Belgium for the Armistice Centenary commemorations in Ypres, during which I shall attempt to find and mark the final two graves of the remaining two 'Easington Fallen', both who are buried not far from Ypres itself. It promises to be another very moving experience.
At the risk of more self-indulgence, here's the latest Not All Ticket post, which relates the story of arguably the bravest football team in the history of the game...
Lest We Forget