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(writing sample #2)
My Dear Heart,
Your letters are like home to me, an escape from this ugly war. All I can seem to think about is you.
Training has been difficult but rewarding. We’ve been at it for months but it looks like we’ll be sent to the front any day now. I have the flower you sent me in the pocket closest to my heart, i’ll keep it with me always, hopefully it brings me luck.
I wish I had time to write more, I’ll write again as soon as I can.
Yours forever
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(writing sample of a letter)(written by me)
My Love,
I’ve been missing you greatly. The days are long and the world seems dull without you here. Everything seems to have slown down and at the same time rush forward so quickly I can hardly keep up. More and more boys leave every day, by the time you get my letter it will probably be a ghost town here. How is it where you are? Is training hard? Are they feeding you?
I’ve kept your promise, I am trying to do everything we did together to keep myself going. I’ve been going on walks, I cycle. I also got a job. It’s very exciting, I’m working at a warehouse. It’s a way for me to spend my time and help you simultaneously.
I was on a walk this morning and came across a beautiful field of flowers, and I saw this carnation. I read that they symbolize bravery, safety and strength. I’m sending it with my letter, if you keep it with you it may remind you of me and keep you safe. You better come home to me.
I love you, I miss you,
Margaret
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The Unknown Soldier
On November 7th, 1920, in strictest secrecy, four unidentified British bodies were exhumed from temporary battlefield cemeteries at Ypres, Arras, the Asine and the Somme.
None of the soldiers who did the digging were told why.
The bodies were taken by field ambulance to GHQ at St-Pol-Sur-Ter Noise. Once there, the bodies were draped with the union flag.
Sentries were posted and Brigadier-General Wyatt and a Colonel Gell selected one body at random. The other three were reburied.
A French Honour Guard was selected and stood by the coffin overnight of the chosen soldier overnight.
On the morning of the 8th November, a specially designed coffin made of oak from the grounds of Hampton Court arrived and the Unknown Warrior was placed inside.
On top was placed a crusaders sword and a shield on which was inscribed:
“A British Warrior who fell in the GREAT WAR 1914-1918 for King and Country”.
On the 9th of November, the Unknown Warrior was taken by horse-drawn carriage through Guards of Honour and the sound of tolling bells and bugle calls to the quayside.
There, he was saluted by Marechal Foche and loaded onto HMS Vernon bound for Dover. The coffin stood on the deck covered in wreaths, surrounded by the French Honour Guard.
Upon arrival at Dover, the Unknown Warrior was met with a nineteen gun salute - something that was normally only reserved for Field Marshals.
A special train had been arranged and he was then conveyed to Victoria Station, London.
He remained there overnight, and, on the morning of the 11th of November, he was finally taken to Westminster Abbey.
The idea of the unknown warrior was thought of by a Padre called David Railton who had served on the front line during the Great War the union flag he had used as an altar cloth whilst at the front, was the one that had been draped over the coffin.
It was his intention that all of the relatives of the 517,773 combatants whose bodies had not been identified could believe that the Unknown Warrior could very well be their lost husband, father, brother or son.
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Colorized footage of a Mark 1 male tank during training in the mud.
From “They Shall Not Grow Old”
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Alexander “Alec” Stanhope Forbes.
2nd Lt. Alec Forbes was born and raised in Newlyn in Cornwall, the only son and only child of artists Alexander Stanhope Forbes Sr and Canadian Elizabeth Adela Forbes.
His mother died in 1912, and his father urged him not to join the fight overseas. Eventually Alec joined the Duke of Cornwalls Light Infantry, 3rd Battalion.
Alec was killed in action in September 1916, leaving his father completing heart broken. Upon hearing of his sons death, his father sat down and painted this depiction of Alec in his uniform completely from memory.
He is buried in Guillemont Road Cemetery where his headstone bears an inscription composed by his father: “HE SAW BEYOND THE FILTH OF BATTLE, AND THOUGHT DEATH A FAIR PRICE TO PAY TO BELONG TO THE COMPANY OF THESE FELLOWS.”
His father was able to visit his sons grave in 1919.
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All night long I hear you calling,
Calling sweet and low;
Seem to hear your footsteps falling,
Ev’ry were I go.
Tho’ the road between us stretches
Many a weary mile,
I forget that you’re not with me yet,
When I think I see you smile.
.
.
Tumblr | @my-darling-boy
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Upon a recent trip to Budapest, I found myself inside a spectacular historical exhibit documenting the disproportionate effect the Great War had on a country only secondarily involved in it. Featured in the foremost above photos are wax sculptures exhibiting the transformation of Hungary’s cavalry from their archaic, flamboyant kit to the frighteningly more modern counterpart. The third photo was another wax figure, this time of a small child in a youth’s gas mask playing with her tricycle under eerie lighting. (Új Világ Született [A World Reborn] Exhibit, Western Budapest, Hungary).
Thanks @selfregard-less for these great pictures. I love to see how the war is treated outside the Anglosphere and this exhibit looks fantastic.
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Perhaps, by Vera Brittain
(Dedicated to her fiance Roland Aubrey Leighton, who was killed at the age of 20 by a sniper in 1915, four months after she had accepted his marriage proposal)
Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of You.
Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.
Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.
Perhaps some day I shall not shrink in pain
To see the passing of the dying year,
And listen to Christmas songs again,
Although You cannot hear.
But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.
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