Spring Advance at Arras, and Phillip.

In between the clouds today I noticed the buds appearing on the trees opposite.  Naturally, the picture does not show any!  However, the park was filled with kids today, plus guardian parents, none of whom appeared to wear masks while chatting to one another.  We forget, or ignore, so easily.  The young kids are better behaved than those that come later, the 'Chase me! Chase Me! crowd' of adolescents that gather to shout and scream in the darkness.  For a few years they have been reasonably quiet, this years lot may be louder.  They leave behind the same mess as all the others while also going on demonstartions to 'Stop Climate Change' and 'Save the Planet!  

It is understandable that those trapped inside, especially kids, wish to be outside making a noise and having fun so it is difficult to complain.  I wish I could do the same!  The lessening of the chill, it was cold when I visited Tesco early on, means people are fooled into thinking Spring is hear again.  I will cheer them all up by telling them it will soon rain all night and into tomorrow.  It is Spring!

 

Vimy Ridge, 9th April 1917.  This was the beginning of the Battle of Arras, a battle with a higher attrition rate than the Somme but almost nobody has heard of it.  Fought begrudgingly by General Haig to support a French 'Push' which was a disaster, it began in good style, the Canadians taking Vimy Ridge mostly within the first hour.  Hard fighting thereafter.  The British 3rd Army under General Allenby attacking south of Vimy advanced over three miles before being slowed by enemy resistance.  As the fight stuttered Allenby was removed by Haig much to his disgust.  Sent to the Middle East by Lloyd George he was happy to support the PMs later attacks on Haig.  

No celebrations occur in the UK re this battle, though it is seen, possibly wrongly, as the birth of an independent Canada.  The Canadians did fight well during the conflict, we could not win without them, yet are often ignored by the UK media.  No surprise there. 

Three local men died on that day, Private Ernest Arthur Clark, Private Bertie Charles Cooper, and Private Horace George Green.  There were to be several more in the days to come.  Cooper was one of four men from one family who was killed in action.  A fifth brother survived simply by being sent to India with a Territorial Unit and avoiding the war.

 

 

Not sure if you noticed but 150 posts on Twitter have indicated the Duke of Edinburgh has died at 99.  This is no surprise to anyone, he was sick, aged, and while well looked after, all knew it was likely.  

The media have gone into overdrive, endlessly repeating the things we all know, one or two dodgy bits about his comments ('Slitty eyes' anyone) and ignoring anything that makes them look bad.  Saturday's press will not be worth buying as it will contain the pre-prepared pull outs full of what has already filled the TV today. 

Personally I am raging!

The Heart of Midlothian game against Alloa was to be shown on BBC Scotland Channel tonight, this while the BBC channel is showing the same programmes, as is STV and SKY, so they have removed the match from TV as this is considered 'light' programming!

Since when was football Light programming?
Absurd decision, and another attack on the Heart of Midlothian by the Glasgow BBC.

Research...

With the rain dampening spirits outside it is good to sit around this grubby, unswept, somewhat littered accommodation and rest my weary bones.  It has been a bit trying physically as I have been attempting to cycle, exercise and work and now wish not to do anything far from the laptop.  
Yesterday was a busy time at the museum.  The shop has begun to attract the browsing fraternity, the ones who come in, touch, feel, hum, hah!, and wander around the shop and walk out without buying.  There is also those who do buy, we smile at them, and many who came in yesterday for one of our many local books or to ask a query of some sort.  I ended up with several queries yesterday some of which could be answered.  I was a little irked that one photo of a local man has turned out not to be who we thought it was.  The cap badge looked good but on closer inspection it is clear he was from the Northamptonshire regiment.  This irked me when I discovered their regimental museum was under the control of the council who were rebuilding the museum in which it was stored and are not taking any queries until work is completed in 2020!  While I understand this it is not helpful!

A film show in the afternoon was bringing in around 50 people.  This was film a local man took on 8mm from the 60's till he died some years ago, many come to see this and look for themselves in the picture!  By person or by phone they came all morning, interrupting my work, I have nearly finished that book now.   Over all it was a good day, I never argued with anyone, folks from a wide area, including the States, passed through sort of happy, and those that went round the museum had  a good time in spite of the mess created by changing from one exhibition to another.  Of course I never got my tea until 11:30 and with people coming in it was tepid by the time I got to it!  

One chap informed me of his relation to a name on one of the memorials and just had to tell someone.  His great uncle was killed at Arras and this sent me searching more info on him and where he fell.  Another attack that succeeded until it failed and they fell back somewhat daunted.  Arras was a battle the British forces won but in the southern end they face the strongest German defences and lost out.  General Allenby was replaced after this and sent to the Middle East. Some say Sassoon had Allenby in mind with this poem.

The General

By Siegfried Sassoon

“Good-morning, good-morning!” the General said

When we met him last week on our way to the line.

Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead,

And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine.

“He's a cheery old card,” grunted Harry to Jack

As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.

But he did for them both by his plan of attack.    
Poetry Foundation