Lest we forget
- Thread starter Undave
- Start date
No Such Agency
New member
DULCE ET DECORUM EST
By Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound\'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil\'s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.
By Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound\'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil\'s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.
AinuLainour
New member
*salute*
Roger Bunting
New member
They shall grow not old,
As we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn,
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
-- Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
As we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn,
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
-- Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
freakinacage
Well-known member
Never forgotten.
Torn blue sky
New member
And here\'s bidding all our boys and girls in theaters all over a safe return. :beer:
Amen.
And if you run into any of those widgets that want to change it to a WHITE poppy,
punch \'em in the nose.
\"Red is the colour of blood. We should remember them more fondly.\"
That\'s their rationale.
The Red poppy, worn over the heart, is symbolic of the blood that these men
spilled so that we could live free and proud. To take away that symbol would,
to my mind, not be a remembrance.
It would be an insult to everything they did, or are doing now.
Wear your red poppy with pride, say I!
And if you run into any of those widgets that want to change it to a WHITE poppy,
punch \'em in the nose.
\"Red is the colour of blood. We should remember them more fondly.\"
That\'s their rationale.
The Red poppy, worn over the heart, is symbolic of the blood that these men
spilled so that we could live free and proud. To take away that symbol would,
to my mind, not be a remembrance.
It would be an insult to everything they did, or are doing now.
Wear your red poppy with pride, say I!
Torn blue sky
New member
Not to mention it was the red poppy that covered the battlefields of ages past. The graves of brave men marked only by a host of these flowers...This is how we remember them.
philologus
Subgenius
I served and I was born today.
TAB Studio
New member
Happy birthday philologus
Hats off... to all those of service, for their time, patience and effort!
Hats off... to all those of service, for their time, patience and effort!
Thanks to all that have served and that will serve.
INTERESTING note I just \'learned\' today.
I\'m sure you all knew this, but it was a discussion I had with my daughter this morning as we drove to school.
The poppy (pictured above) became to symbolize the fallen during WW 1. It was one of the only plants that could thrive in the heavily disturbed soil, and often grew right on top of the fallen soldiers, thus marking their graves.
INTERESTING note I just \'learned\' today.
I\'m sure you all knew this, but it was a discussion I had with my daughter this morning as we drove to school.
The poppy (pictured above) became to symbolize the fallen during WW 1. It was one of the only plants that could thrive in the heavily disturbed soil, and often grew right on top of the fallen soldiers, thus marking their graves.
Torn blue sky
New member
I kina beat you to that Vikey lol. Completely true.
