Lest We Forget

[BLUEDIGNITY 33,647]

[Scottywellhousetb 50,511]

 

[AGC123 1,185]

We Will Remember Them.
 

was a lovely morning for the service at the local war memorial. 
 

 

[Rangers#1 5,461]

Lest We Forget

[CXB 4,324]

Paid my respects today. GSTK.

 

[Blacky Bear 868]

Heroes for the ages.

Over 1000 years of freedom due thier bravery and sacrifices 

Lest We Forget.

[Bad Robot 21,152]

London Loyal RSC Wreath on the left.

[Unionblue 3,570]

 

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.

[kplfishtank 4,656]

Remembering my Great Grandfather who was killed in action on this day 😢😢😢💙💙💙

[Bad Robot 21,152]

3 hours ago, kplfishtank said:

Remembering my Great Grandfather who was killed in action on this day 😢😢😢💙💙💙

For your Great Grandfather and the many other brave men, we will remember them: 

 

[Darth Bear 15,097]

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.

[BLUEDIGNITY 33,647]