I knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark.In winter trenches, cowed and glum,With crumps and lice and lack of rum,He put a bullet through his brain.No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eyewho cheer when soldier lads march by,Sneak home and pray you’ll never knowThe hell where youth and laughter go.
This is a blog about soldiers and history but its not about my country right or wrong bullshit, lets say this blog follows the wells ideal about war.And if you ever read it you'll know that I don't hold much belief in people doing the MY country right or wrong shit and joining the army, if you ever thought that you were really doing something patriotic then read this.But before that the edifice above is the type of shit hole that soldiers were allowed to move into after the war. masterbox At first they were not so bad and for years people lived in harmony but that was until these flats became the dumping ground of the immigrants and their offspring, they quickly became the dens of drug dealers and those that had lost any semblance of human rapport so much so that now they are being pulled down to make super apartment blocks for yuppies. This particular block is in Manor House I know all about it because my Grandfather a veteran of both the first and second world war lived there, my Grandfather a front line Sgt Major and also at Dunkirk used to write Graffiti on abandoned cars with a marker pen , things like "KKK Out With the Wogs " and if you are a Neo Lib you may be abhored by that point of view but then you didn't live out his life. While perfectly understanding a person, a human being who can get a life in England and who has no life in the dusty hell hole from where he comes the real point is that the working class has always had to pay the bill for those who live in leafier climes and who are the dominant voice in the neo lib newspapers and media, most of it based on assumed opinion. " I almost ended up on the streets after leaving the Royal Air Force in 2001. I was due to attened resettlment in my last few months of service but was needed to work to cover the two pregnant girls in my section. Despite having applied for local council housing in my home area 18 months prior to discharge I was still at the bottom of the list a few months before exiting. I was told by my local council housing office that I was a lower priority than prisoners leaving prison, asylum seekers and young pregnant teenagers. Luckily I had a relative take me in, I got work and got my own place but it could have been so different. The Government cares not a jot once you leave, and the plight of not just veterans but combat veterans is disgusting. If you are an asylum seeker who turns up at dover you at least get a roof over your head and some food. More than our veterans do on discharge. And today we hear that Cameron has gone back on his word to enshrine the military covenant in law. The public are extremely generous to charities like H4H, and its lucky for those veterans that thay are. Because Tommy Atkins by Kipling was never so poignant as today, hundreds of years after it was written. Pounds great poem about what the First world war was about is true in all wars, as true today as it was all those years ago, councils in the U.K have more regard for the immigrant or those from places with names most British have never even heard of than those who are supposed to have loyally served their country, this is the so called left of our country but don't think its much different to the right. We have people coming to the country and those in the country that can't speak English but know everything about the social security system, these people are backed by the so called left of the country and wanted by the capitalist as cheap labour any time work is in abundance. Its a nation of imbeciles with the lesser "queers" following the affirmations of the Capo Honcho "queer" who seems to be the font of wisdom, I don't mean this literally but you get the message i'm sure. I use the word queer to mean kind of deranged.One of the few intellectual giants of our age Ezra Pound put his finger right on the button. THESE fought, in any case,
and some believing, pro domo, in any case..
Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
learning later. . .
some in fear, learning love of slaughter;
Died some pro patria, non dulce non et decor". .
walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving
came home, home to a lie,
home to many deceits,
home to old lies and new infamy;
usury age-old and age-thick
and liars in public places.
Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
Young blood and high blood,
Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;
fortitude as never before
frankness as never before,
disillusions as never told in the old days,
hysterias, trench confessions,
laughter out of dead bellies.
V,
HERE died a myriad,
And of the best, among them,
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization,
Charm, smiling at the good mouth,
Quick eyes gone under earth's lid,
For two gross of broken statues,
For a few thousand battered books.
At first they were not so bad and for years people lived in harmony but that was until these flats became the dumping ground of the immigrants and their offspring, they quickly became the dens of drug dealers and those that had lost any semblance of human rapport so much so that now they are being pulled down to make super apartment blocks for yuppies.
While perfectly understanding a person, a human being who can get a life in England and who has no life in the dusty hell hole from where he comes the real point is that the working class has always had to pay the bill for those who live in leafier climes and who are the dominant voice in the neo lib newspapers and media, most of it based on assumed opinion.
" I almost ended up on the streets after leaving the Royal Air Force in 2001. I was due to attened resettlment in my last few months of service but was needed to work to cover the two pregnant girls in my section. Despite having applied for local council housing in my home area 18 months prior to discharge I was still at the bottom of the list a few months before exiting. I was told by my local council housing office that I was a lower priority than prisoners leaving prison, asylum seekers and young pregnant teenagers.
Pounds great poem about what the First world war was about is true in all wars, as true today as it was all those years ago, councils in the U.K have more regard for the immigrant or those from places with names most British have never even heard of than those who are supposed to have loyally served their country, this is the so called left of our country but don't think its much different to the right.
THESE fought, in any case,
and some believing, pro domo, in any case..
Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
learning later. . .
some in fear, learning love of slaughter;
Died some pro patria, non dulce non et decor". .
walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving
came home, home to a lie,
home to many deceits,
home to old lies and new infamy;
usury age-old and age-thick
and liars in public places.
Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
Young blood and high blood,
Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;
fortitude as never before
frankness as never before,
disillusions as never told in the old days,
hysterias, trench confessions,
laughter out of dead bellies.
And of the best, among them,
For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization,
Charm, smiling at the good mouth,
Quick eyes gone under earth's lid,
For two gross of broken statues,
For a few thousand battered books.