Showing posts with label World War I. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War I. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

CHRISTMAS STORY 2009 - SILENT NIGHT

So finally we reach this years " Christmas Story" I hope you all enjoy it.


The night was hot and steamy, too hot, too sticky and too not like Christmas for the soldier that lay trying to get some rest before going on duty, in the non air-conditioned barracks room.

Last Christmas had been so special, a family sharing their Christmas joy, watching children open presents, seeing the happiness on their smiling faces. Sharing a stolen kiss under the mistletoe with the one you loved.

The day had been even more special knowing that at any moment the deployment would happen and you’d have to leave the ones you love and head for a land far away where sand replaced snow, and the nearest thing to Christmas decorations were the socks somebody had hung on a small cut-down palm tree that stood forlornly in the corner of the barracks room.

It was strange to realize that the first Christmas had taken place in a land much like the one they were now stationed in. Despite the dangers that confronted them every day the country still had its beauty. You could almost imagine seeing three camels following one of the stars that twinkled in the clear black sky, which could just be made out through the slit, blast protecting windows.

Sighing, the soldier picked up a magazine carelessly dropped by one of the platoon members, and started to read how many years before a war had been briefly stopped by Christmas.

On Christmas Eve in December 1914 one of the most unusual events in military history took place on the Western front. On the night of Dec. 24 the weather abruptly became cold, freezing the water and slush of the trenches in which the men bunkered. On the German side, soldiers began lighting candles. British sentries reported to commanding officers there seemed to be small lights raised on poles or bayonets.

Although these lanterns clearly illuminated German troops, making them vulnerable to being shot, the British held their fire. Even more amazing, British officers saw through their binoculars that some enemy troops were holding Christmas trees over their heads with lighted candles in their branches. The message was clear: Germans, who celebrated Christmas on the eve of Dec. 24, were extending holiday greetings to their enemies.

Within moments of that sighting, the British began hearing a few German soldiers singing the Christmas carol "Silent Night". It was soon picked up all along the German line as other soldiers joined in harmonizing.

One by one, British and German soldiers began laying down their weapons to venture into no-man's-land, a small patch of bombed-out earth between the two sides. So many soldiers on both sides ventured out that superior officers were prevented from objecting. There was an undeclared truce and peace had broken out.

That night, former enemy soldiers sat around a common campfire. They exchanged small gifts from their meager belongings - chocolate bars, buttons, badges and small tins of processed beef. Men who only hours earlier had been shooting to kill were now sharing Christmas festivities and showing each other family snapshots


The soldier put down the magazine, and lay back on the bed, still thinking of the previous Christmas, until an order barked into the barracks told that it was time for the night patrol.

Taking out a slightly tattered picture from their fatigues pocket, a small tear crept into the eye of the soldier. It showed a smiling husband and wife and two young children, gathered around a Christmas tree, the lights reflecting in the eyes of each member of the family.

Sighing once more, the soldier carefully pushed the photo back into their pocket, before reaching into a bag under their bed. Looking once more at the discarded magazine, they pulled out a dozen bars of chocolate and stuffed them into a side trouser pocket.

Corporal Fanning might be many thousands of miles away from her family, but as a mother, she may still be able to bring a brief smile and moment of happiness to some children in a war torn country this special time of year.

Click the microphone to hear the story narrated by the author




You can always read or share the story at:

http://4tendereheart.com/xmas2009.html


Barry



BARRY EVA (Storyheart)

Author of Young Adult Romance/Fiction book
"Across the Pond"

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sunday Uk Blog - Poppies to Remember


While the US celebrates Veterans Day, around the world the day to remember those who gave up their lives for us is called "Remembrance Day". Canada like the US holds this day on November 11th. While in the UK the national day of remembrance for those killed in both world wars and later conflicts, on the second Sunday of November

Remembrance Sunday is observed by a two-minute silence at the time of the signature of the armistice with Germany that ended World War I: 11:00 am, 11 November 1918 (although since 1956 the day of commemoration has been the Sunday). There are ceremonies at the Cenotaph in Whitehall, London, and elsewhere. The day was specifically dedicated by King George V, on 7 November 1919, to the observance of members of the armed forces who were killed during war. Since that time there has also been held a two minutes silence to remember those fallen hero's.

‘Poppies’, symbolic of the blood shed, are sold in aid of war invalids and their defendants.

So why the Poppy?


The ‘Flanders poppies’ have become a cymbal for those who died defending their country originally from the World War I, as per the famous poem by John McCrae.

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.

John McCrae, 1915.

McCrae was a Canadian who enlisted to help the allies in the war. He was made Medical Officer upon landing in Europe. During a lull in the battle with the nub of a pencil he scratched on a page from his dispatch book. The poem found its way into the pages of Punch magazine. By 1918 the poem was well known throughout the allied world.

I must admit, it came as a bit of a shock to find that the whole idea of using the poppy came from an American woman. Moina Michael and American,adopted the custom of wearing a red poppy in memory of the sacrifices of war and also as a symbol of keeping the faith.

A French women, Madam Guerin, visiting the United States, learned of the custom and took it one step further. When she returned to France she decided to hand make the red poppies and sell them to raise money for the benefit of the orphaned and destitute women and children in war torn areas of France. This tradition spread to Canada, The United States and Australia and is still followed today. The money collected from the sale of poppies goes to fund various veterans programs.


Barry



BARRY EVA (Storyheart)

Author of Young Adult Romance/Fiction book
"Across the Pond"

Sunday, July 19, 2009

STORYHEART"S SUNDAY UK BLOG



Oldest WWI veteran dies aged 113

Henry Allingham, the world's oldest man and one of the last surviving World War I servicemen, died at the age of 113 in England.
Though we still talk about World War I as indeed we should this now leaves just two British survivors from what is sometimes called "The Great War" not that any war is great.

Mr Allingham, the last survivor of the Battle of Jutland was very active right up to his final days. or decades, he buried his war memories, avoiding reunions and refusing to discuss the events with his family.

But, in 2005, he was persuaded to unveil an RAF memorial in France and decided it would have been disrespectful to his former comrades to refuse.

This was followed by numerous honors and accolades.

Second jogger attacked by buzzard

A buzzard has attacked another holidaymaker in Cornwall - the second such incident in a matter of days.

Eleanor Dennis, 19, was jogging near the Helford River on Saturday evening when the bird of prey attacked.

The teenager from Hertfordshire, who is on holiday with her family, was not hurt, but was badly frightened.

Last week Stuart Urquhart from Bristol needed hospital treatment after a buzzard slashed his head while he was out jogging near the Helford River.

Mr Urquhart suffered three 6cm (2in) long gashes on his scalp from the bird's talons.

Bond's Lotus bought for £105,000

James Bond's Lotus Esprit from the film For Your Eyes Only has been sold to a Middle Eastern buyer for £105,000 at an auction in Oxfordshire.

Reply to Yesterdays Blog Question

I have had several replies to yesterdays blog question about Christian Literature. To me this is the best explanation, and I totally agree with what it should now really be called.

If you want to try and apply the term Christian Literature to mainstream literature, then perhaps we need to change the term to "Christian Friendly." Meaning, Christian values are respected and sensitively dealt with - perhaps not in individual characters or the words used (blaspheming and such should be okay if the purpose is to create/motivate/ drive a character and not to just shock the reader). Christian Friendly literature would then, presumably, leave the reader with some kind of lesson or message or theme or or or... the list is quite endless... and the Christians to offend almost as endless. As you say Christian isn't an easy term to define in literature. Interesting point!

Thank you to everybody for their comments. I hope you continue to enjoy my scribblings.






Author of Young Adult Romance/Fiction book
Across the Pond
http://acrossthepond-storyheart.blogspot.com/
http://across-t-pond.com


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MOTHERS DAY ACROSS THE POND
ABOUT THE UNION JACK
ENGLISHMANS VIEW ON BASEBALL
WHAT IS BOXING DAY
BRITISH TV TRANSPLANTS
WHO WAS SAINT GEORGE?
BOBS YOUR UNCLE
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EUROPE'S GOT TALENT - WELL PERHAPS
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FROM CHARIOTS TO NASCAR
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