The Eleventh Day

It took over four years of toil, sorrow, blood, and waste before the guns fell silent across the western front.

Since then, other wars have been fought; sadly, more will be fought; it is in our nature. Freedom and liberty do not sprout unaided; these blessings must be cultivated and defended. All too often, that requires sacrifice. All too often, it is necessary for men and women to stand "between their loved homes and the war's desolation."

To those that have served, and to those that do serve: for the freedoms that I am able to enjoy, for the peace in which I dwell, thank you. All I can do is thank you, and remember.

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The First of The Few

Proudly presenting "The First of the Few," the 1942 story of the design of the Supermarine Spitfire and its designer, R.J. Mitchell.

Thanks to CDR. Salamander for finding this!

The Eleventh Day

Originally conceived as a commemoration of the end of the Great War, Armistice Day became Veterans' Day in America and Remembrance Day in the UK, Canada, and elsewhere after the Second World War. Since then, more Americans and members of the Commonwealth have answered the call, many to the sacrifice of their own lives.

For the freedoms that I am able to enjoy, thank you. All I can do is thank you, and remember.


In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

What About Armistice Day, Then?

Good news: on Sunday, the First World War will finally be over. From the Telegraph:

The First World War will officially end on Sunday, 92 years after the guns fell silent, when Germany pays off the last chunk of reparations imposed on it by the Allies.

The final payment of £59.5 million, writes off the crippling debt that was the price for one world war and laid the foundations for another.

Germany was forced to pay the reparations at the Treaty of Versailles in 1919 as compensation to the war-ravaged nations of Belgium and France and to pay the Allies some of the costs of waging what was then the bloodiest conflict in history, leaving nearly ten million soldiers dead.

Events from nearly a hundred years ago, still haunting us today. Given that my generation can't even be bothered to remember the significance of November 11, 1918, I imagine this will go by with little more than a smirk and raised eyebrow, if that.

"Gentlemen, when the barrage lifts"

July 1st is  the anniversary of the beginning of the Battle of the Somme.

Quoting John Derbyshire,

"...the bloodiest day in the history of the British Army. They took 60,000 casualties, of whom nearly twenty thousand were killed.

The Tommies were to get out of their trenches and advance across No Man's Land towards the enemy trenches. This maneuver was to be preceded by an artillery barrage on the enemy lines."

From The Great War and Modern Memory by Paul Fussell:

B.H. Liddell Hart, who was in the 9th Battalion of the King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, explains. Just before the Somme attack, "the officers assembled in the headquarters mess, in a typical Picardy farmhouse. Recent strain between the commanding officer and some of the others led to an embarrassing pause when the senior company commander was called on to propose a toast to the C.O. On a sudden inspiration, he raised his glass and gave the toast with the words: 'Gentlemen, when the barrage lifts'."

The battalion attacked with some 800 men. Twenty-four hours later its strength was 80 men and four officers.