Showing posts with label Poppy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poppy. Show all posts

Friday 10 November 2023

Poppy Hysteria


Much nonsense has been talked recently re the Poppy.'  More false patriotism from the 'Daily Mail' and her kind.  They claim people are afraid to wear poppies in case they are attacked, they emphasis a man wearing a Para Red Beret, who claimed the Palestinian protesters attacked him in Edinburgh's Waverley Station.  This turned out to be a lie!  Indeed he may be a fraud, but we will see.  Tabloid hysteria finds many who ought to know better demanding 'action.'
With someone suffering mental retardation as Home Secretary, she has been igniting fear and hatred in recent days again, and her paper supporting her and the far-right nutjobs behind her we await a response from the man pretending to be a Prime Minister.  So far, nothing.
It is inevitable that as the Great War and Second World Wars fade from society consciousness it is inevitable that less people will wear or understand the reason for the Poppy.  There may be one or two born before or during the Great War, but they would have to be 109 if they were born in 1914, and I think the oldest person now is 107.  There are many in their 80s and 90s who were born in the period of the second war, but even they are fading away.  Younger generations, born since, say the 1960s on, will have little personal connection, unless they have made a search of the family history.  Certainly many have but the majority will remain distant from these events.  Time passing means this can only continue.  
The great Palestinian march on Saturday will go nowhere near the Cenotaph.  However, the hysteria has meant the police now have to surround the thing with half a dozen men, because Suella says so. 
The real danger may come from those responding to Robinsons call to 'protect the Cenotaph.'  The dead must feel grateful that such wish to protect them.


Monday 14 November 2022

Remembrance Today


At two in the almost sunny Sunday afternoon the congregation gathered to pay their respects to the war dead.  Amongst them were many men, and a few women, who endured active service and saw their colleagues and friends suffer and sometimes die in action.
Before 1914 the wars Britain became involved in were far from home.  Colonial wars, Crimea, South Africa, and early in the 19th century fighting Napoleon in Portugal and Spain, before the end at Waterloo.  The public were not concerned much apart from the shortage of some goods, such as Brandy during Napoleon's time, and anyway smuggling was popular.  Soldiers travelled the world, fought and died far from home, as sailors had done for generations.  The public were involved only at a distance.


For many years people had realised war with Germany was likely.  Patriotism was at a high, even though History was badly taught, and the wide spread of newspapers, from which most people were informed, were at best propaganda, and at worst deliberately false.  
Being a soldier was a respectable occupation.  Since the middle of the 19th century the military mind affected all parts of society, so much so that William Booth's outreach in the east end of London took the name 'Salvation Army,' and not long afterwards the copycats at the Anglican church joined in with the 'Church Army.'   
The army had been reformed under the Haldane reorganisation, led by General Haig.  Now we had 25 Front Line regiments, of two battalions each.  One was stationed at home, the other abroad.  Also the various militia were reformed into the Territorial Force, ostensibly for Home Defence only.  These did however, allow men to play soldiers, learn the basics of warfare, and, in a time of few holidays, gave them suitable exercise at weekends and on general annual manoeuvres.  With a possible war looming did some men enlist in the Territorials in preparation for this?  
As any General knows, you plan for a war, prepare carefully, train your men, and off you go, and watch your plan disintegrate in the resulting stramash.  All things change once war is entered upon.  The UK found this to be true in 1914.  British opinion was led to expect a short war, a few months only they said.  This was considered likely elsewhere, even the Kaiser believed his men would be home by Christmas.  It was easy to forget that the Boer War, such a short time before, had taken some four years before it ended.  How dismayed were the politicians at the first war Cabinet meeting when Field Marshall Kitchener informed them the war would take at least three years and he must raise another hundred thousand men.  They did not believe him! The Generals understood what could happen if a war of movement was halted, no politician appears to have considered this a possibility. Nonetheless, when war was declared on August 4th men everywhere rushed to the colours, many afraid they would miss the excitement.


Come November 1918 opinions differed somewhat from the days of early excitement.  The surviving men who volunteered then were not the same men in 1918.  The world had changed, the war had been won, something people often forget, but at a great cost, both 'at the front,' and 'at home.'
The most reliable figures I have come across tell me that 704,803 men died in action.  Of these some 338,955 are as yet undiscovered or unidentified.  It is from this great loss that 'remembrance' as we know it springs.


The question "What to do with the bodies," caused much wringing of hands and cursing throughout the land.  Some people, at least those with money, broke the law and brought back their own loved ones, their 'heroes,' rather than follow the final decision to bury men where they fell.  Outrage abundant.  Bodies were collected, I think those doing the job, many soldiers themselves or often Chinese labourers, were paid six shillings a d ay for the often gruesome work.  Scattered bodies, small cemeteries, were collected together in large organised places near where they fell.  These today, run by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, are peaceful well tended resting places revealing nothing of the conflict that caused their creation.  
In the UK however, many did not have a place in which to commemorate their dead.  So by the middle of the 1920s local war memorials sprang up everywhere.  Large cities and towns created often huge memorials, local towns and villages did their best, even if it was just a plaque in a church.  On these were graven the names of the dead, alongside slogans such as 'Our Glorious Dead,' 'Not Forgotten,' 'They Died so we could be Free,' and the names of battlefields they fought over, 'Mons, Ypres, Loos, Somme, Cambrai, Passchendaele.'  A glance at such memorials tells much about the town or village where they are found, and the great cost to the population of the time.  


The return and burial in Westminster Cathedral of the 'Unknown Warrior' in 1920 was much heralded by many.  Women especially believed, some through dreams and visions, that this was their husband, son, brother.  Thousands lined the streets as he was paraded through the city.
At the same time a Cenotaph, made from wood, was erected in Whitehall.  The empty tomb lying at the top symbolising the missing.  This idea, copied from the ancient Greek fashion, was highly popular and within a year a more solid cenotaph, made I think of Portland Stone, was erected.
As the memorials closer to home began to appear in city, town and village, the locals turned out to 'remember' their was dead.  Many an Honour Guard on duty at the opening or remembrance ceremonies could well remember and speak of the situation of those named on the memorial.  Often not willing to discuss this publicly in front of the families.  Many names were of course their brothers.
Occasionally in the following years some were able to travel to distant parts to stand alongside their dead.  The majority however, were struggling to survive themselves without the 'Homes made for heroes,' that had been promised.  Thousands of ex-servicemen, especially the wounded, were more or less abandoned to their fate.  
The wives, mothers, children of the dead, and possibly those who so eagerly encouraged enlistment in their locale, now had a place where they could annually remember the sacrifice of their own.  An event continued until their own passing.


 Flanders Fields are at the right time ablaze with red poppies.  During the 1920s the idea began in Canada to commemorate the war dead by the wearing of a red poppy each year.  The idea carried on and now is controlled by the 'British Legion,' (In Scotland 'Poppy Scotland.') and is used to raise money to support their work with wounded servicemen.  It remains highly popular, and while some refuse to wear them, others have designed white, blue or black, poppies for reasons of their own, the Poppy is worn by the majority of the population during the two weeks up to the Remembrance Day on November 11th.  
It is something of a shame that it has been highjacked by many for reasons of their own.  Some consider it encourages or supports war, others, mostly the English Brexit fraternity have taken to it in a big way.  This is not to commemorate or remember, for them it reflects a historic past in which 'England' (not Britain) ruled the world.  A society that has seen Irish independence, Scots nearing independence and has nothing of note within itself bar a failed Brexit, desperately uses anything, the poppy included, to give meaning to their lives.        


There are questions these days regarding the meaning of remembrance.  Many voices are heard today claiming 'it was so long ago,' and people who served are now dying off.  "What is the point?"  Such people need to understand how History affects them today as they themselves are a product of these two great conflagrations that rocked the world.  As it is, in the crowd gathered at this memorial were many who knew an uncle or father who left to join the war in the 1940s.  Others have researched their family tree to find out more about grandad or great grandad and his war record.  Relatives of the dead still gather, remembering stories told by aunts and uncles re the one who did not return.  In spite of the time people still remember.  Indeed, since 2014 many more have taken thought to the war dead, and more so when they have relatives who have served, and sometimes died, in one of the UKs more recent actions, Iraq, Afghanistan, or at the 40th centenary of the Falklands Conflict.  The war dead are not just dead in the (to some) distant past, they are family and friends of many gathered at memorials on Sunday.  The two world wars affected each of us living today, at least indirectly, the lesser wars, which will continue until the next global one, affect many of us daily.  We would be foolish to forget those we have lost.


Sunday 7 November 2021

Tacky Remembrance

                                               Poppy Scotland

The Poppy season is well under way.  All around we see people bearing the Red Poppy produced by the 'Royal British Legion' or 'Poppy Scotland,' which appear two weeks before 'Remembrance Sunday.'  This falls annually on November 11th, or the Sunday nearest that.
Since 2014 when we commemorated the centenery of the beginning of the 'Great War for Civilisation,' there has been an upturn in people remembering the two major wars which involved the UK.  The conflict in Afghanistan and Iraq also awoke the cost of war to peoples minds.
During 2014 there were many tasteful acts of remembrance throughout the land, however, it has to be said that many were less so and indeed often, shall we say, tacky?  The more 'tacky' acts of remembrane contnue apace and it displeases me, and I find many others, to see what was once a solem act of remembrance becoming and 'event' smilar to Christmas, New Year or any other commercial driven date.  Someone suggested today we may soon see 'Remembrance cards' in the shops and suddenly one was found via Twitter!  Sorry to say this is not remembrance but commercial money making!  
The RBL and Poppy Scotland now have to ensure the public buyers obtain remembrance Poppies and gifts from themselves (personally I find some of these tacky but the money goes direct to the charity) and not from elsewhere as many claim to donate to the Legion but no proof is offered. 
This is a possible criminal misuse of Remembrance!
Many displays in pubs, shops, and other premisis are often tacky, sometimes ridiculous, and give the feeling of either celebration or a rather ridiculous misunderstandng of what war means.  Today also we find the 'Little Englander Brexiteer' making the most of these 'events' to publish his 'patriotism' while in fact he merely offers an antipathy towards foreigners and claims 'English superiority' over them.
This too is not remembrance!    
Maybe it is time for a national debate about what remembrance is, remembrance History, and how we can remember the long forgotten by some war dead of all sides and what the Historical wars really meant to this nation?
 

Monday 1 November 2021

Monday Moaning

Another day of joy and happiness.
I collected the new sealant from the ironmongers early today and have still not got the job done!  A new problem arose in the loo: this entailed pulling things up, cleaning and fiddling about which led to me putting the sealing off until later.  Then there was the emails to deal with, and the Covid Test run by some university that came through the door (old people get lots of these things) and that took longer to understand and pack than anything else.  
With that sent off I turned to the laptop.  I attempted to renew a Xmas gift subscription, it did not work, then it did, but at all times I was confused and slow.  Being Xmas I sought other gifts; after a while I gave up as they were hurting my eyes and all looking either the same or too expensive.  There was also a lot of 'tat' with high prices available.  The 'tat' I want has to be cheap.  
Oh yes, I did manage to buy something for myself...
After lunch, which has left the place stinking of fish, I failed to get motivated to seal the end of the bath.  I still have also to finish the new work there I notice, more to be done...tomorrow.
 
 
 
The great event began with Joe Biden arriving in Edinburgh and chugging his way 40 miles to Glasgow. This way he avoided all the private aircraft carrying those attending the gathering.  Boris, keen to appear 'Green,' has warned the 'end is nigh,' and 'something must be done,' all the while allowing a new coal mine to be dug, another oil field to begin and shit to spew out across England and Wales rivers and coasts.  Jolly good these men were not planning to swim here...
Will anything happen?  China and Russia are not sending their President, and this broken world will still be broken later, especially after the hundred million dollars promised the last time have not been paid to the small nations to aid their environmental work.
 

It's Poppy time again.  This means I will buy one, find it missing, buy another, wonder where it went, and find a third, which I will hang onto with both hands!   That's the usual situation.  
Also we now find the chancers getting aboard the money bus.  All sort of poppy merchandise will appear that does not offer cash to the Legion.  Goalkeepers gloves are available, covered in poppies, but I doubt the Legion thought that one up, nor will they benefit.  Some dubious items will pass on some cash, most will just line their pockets with poppy items that ought not to be seen in public.
 

 

Thursday 15 November 2018

Searching Finchingfield for the Dead...


Cruel people might imply searching in 'The most beautiful village in England' would soon come across several dead people, I sadly only found one I was looking for.  The village, plus the neighbouring 'Cornish Hall End' contain around 1500 people, so it is not for fast living people.  There are however three pubs, two tea shops and a duck pond with a medieval bridge across it.
I however was in the village partly to get out of town and see something different and partly to find the graves of three dead men.  It keeps me off the streets you see.

   
Getting of the hourly bus, only two on the service, one each way, the usual type of drivers, one decent the other a bit miserable, but a forty minute drive through the countryside was what I wanted even if the bus windows had not been cleaned since August.  
On arrival I quickly found the one time United Reformed Church with graveyard attached.  Being quite small it did not take a lot of searching and soon I found my first man.  Horace joined the Essex Yeomanry, the Territorial Cavalry in 1913, many farm hands experienced with horses did so, and served through four years of war.  Clearly he had been wounded as by 1918 he was with a Labour Company in East Anglia and rather unfortunately was caught by the Flu pandemic and died in Norwich hospital.  It is quite an experience to stand by the grave of someone you now know where as before he was just a name on a list.  


The advantage of the small country village is the countryside, here at the back of the cemetery I could see in the distance a Woodpecker attempting rather bemusedly to head bang a telegraph pole. It could be he was eating insects from the crack in the wood but he appeared a bit confused from a distance.

  
I noticed the nearby villages also had these large Poppies adorning various posts.  This appeared a good idea to me but made me wonder if they will appear next year when no special remembrance is forthcoming.  The houses you will notice in the middle of the village go back several hundred years, most of these are now commercial premises and in summer the front is lined up with motorbikes of all descriptions.  The winding hilly roads around here are great for bikers but not for cyclists.  

   
One of the museum girls was here at the remembrance on Sunday as one of her sons is a member of the kids groups who were attending.  I am not sure hew as to aware of what was going on or keen to be there myself.  However the traffic stopped and the ceremony went ahead and then they trooped up to the church up the steep hill for a service.  The traffic did not stop for me.


You may guess that the red brick building now goes by the name 'Old School House' and in my mind is quite large for a village of the size even if Victorian families had large numbers of children.  They did however come in from the farms and area round about I suppose.  Next door is what was the United Reformed Church and is now some kind of health centre whatever that means.  The huge tree almost covering the front door is behind a garden wall.  Did the build the wall after the church? Or was it some rude Anglican deliberately attempting to hinder entrance to the Reformed building?  I suppose we will never know.

  
The village parish council or whoever was in charge has done well for themselves this weekend, here we see one of those invisible soldiers and several large poppies floating in the pond, a pond all the fallen will have been well acquainted with.  I suspect many lived in the houses just to the right out of shot but I have not got time to search the census to confirm this, and that does not always make identifying individual houses easy.  


Lovers of 18th century post mills will love this one dominating the skyline.  It no longer operates but must have produced a vast amount of flour from the farms around.  Where did it all go?



The view towards the 'Fox Inn' right in the village centre and up towards the Old School House then across the village green indicates the reason people consider the village 'pretty.' It also reveals something of how small the place was in the past, even though it has been here since medieval times and even had a Roman Villa close by, the farming is good obviously.  No wonder almost all those on the war memorial were farm hands.  As the roads going out have a short run of aged buildings also it does provide an excellent place to stop when the sun is out.  


Wandering about the damp grass of a churchyard built on a hill is not a great deal of fun I can tell you.  Slippery grass and slopes do not make me smile, not when I go flying on them anyway.  The fruitless search for two white war grave stone was a waste of time, they did not exist, I am now aware that they lie in private graves.  Having been a clever boy and left behind the details of the men I was searching for I could only guess at the names and therefore did not find them.  One moss covered stone did however indicate a name not found on the war memorial.  Many people for a wide variety of reasons did not put their names on memorials, I will have to investigate this tomorrow.  


My hour in the sun was coming to a close as what the BBC Weather man claimed was 'Light Cloud' was beginning to cover the sun.  The door being unlocked I entered the somewhat gloomy church to browse.


The gloom was broken by these invisible men sitting there.  I am told the preacher mentioned a simple fact that spoke to many, the men who died 'probably came to this church, christened, attended, sat where you sit.'  For many that brought home the reality of the men who fell.  


The effort put on by the village never ends!  I cannot imagine what this place will be like when Christmas or Easter arrives!  Is such an event only possible because the place is small and all know one another, all who make he effort that is?  Or was it a heartfelt response?  I wonder how many people named on the memorial have relatives living in the village today?

 
This picture is as close as I could get to the gloom inside the building.  I did not notice any lighting above but there again I was not looking for that, maybe on Sundays it is brightened, and maybe the sun shining in will brighten the place.


This Victorian stained glass window will brighten the place if the sun shines directly though.


Another quick look, not missing the collection of stones from people of the 'Big Hoose' up the road, and giving a good idea of the depth of the hill coffins have to go down and are still doing so even recently.



Then while awaiting the transport back home I had lunch at the 'Fox Inn' conveniently placed at the bus stop.  The beer was acceptable, £4 a go however was like the graveyard a bit steep I thought,  but the place was clean and set out more for lunches than as a straight forward pub.  I suspect that is how to survive in such places and I am told the reviews are good.  The Bikers like it anyway especially with a tea shop next door for the non drinkers.


 
There is something about the collection of roofs that appeal to me when close together in a higgledy-piggledy fashion.  The fact that they are all red tiles is also interesting, I wonder if there are listed buildings today.  I suspect some of them, when filled with farm labourers, had dirt floors and outside loos, today from as cheap as a mere £350,000 or so unless you want a bigger one of course...

    
This was at the church door, I wonder who he was...?


This was intended as a day out in the sun finding something interesting to see.  Yet while I knew the graves had to be found I did not realise so much of Sunday would remain.  Maybe I should go out again tomorrow...no maybe next week...

Tuesday 19 July 2016

Hurrah! Normality Returns (If that is the right word)


I knew it was a bug that had disturbed my Blogs equilibrium not my incompetence.  All has returned to normal now so I can fill the page with blurred, out of focus, shots of rubbish that you all love, what?... oh!


On Saturday, for reasons that were not apparent, the Royal British Legion were in attendance in the town centre.  Also on parade stood this excellent wee 'Ferret' vehicle once used by the British Army throughout the world.  Owned by a local chap I was interested to see inside of the vehicle as I had seen them around for many years.  
It appears it was not that popular with the gentlemen who once drove them however.  A passing chap indicated he had driven them in Germany during 1970 on the autobahn at 70 miles and hour.  The thing was these boys did not like turning and on corners, being top heavy had an inclination to topple over.  However off road it could at slow speeds take a 45% angle easily!
Some would say this is typical of British Army approach to equipment.

 B&WT

Something strange has been happening recently.  The sun has been shining and has been HOT!  
This is indeed news in a nation used to cold, rain and hail.  
Today, while I sat indoors at the museum, people outside suffered high temperatures, at the moment it is 28%C around 82% F.  This is how it ought to be but as always we are complaining it is too hot, 70% is good enough for the UK population.  Indeed one woman went past using a brolly as a parasol to keep the heat off, something not seen outside of aged photographs!  No doubt it will not last but if it falls to that 70% level I will be happy enough. 
Oh yes, the trains are delayed as the rails are too hot and speeds have been reduced.


This one is good.  Turkey President Erdogan is attacked by a Coup.  The people stand up and halt the coup although many die during it and a round up begins of those who have rebelled against the state.
However it now becomes obvious the President is rounding up all opponents of his reign, not from anger at rebellion, nor from Islamic zeal but just to keep himself in power.  WikiLeaks, those nasty folks that steal secret documents from folks such as he, promises to release thousands and thousands of Turkish emails many implying this 'coup' was staged by the President himself and he was behind it all the time.
Gosh who would have thought...?
Of course having been an Ally of the west for a while he has some room to maneuver and those US bases watching Putin's Russia will prevent the US indicating dislike, or indeed much else at the moment.  
Don't ya just love a dictator?  Come back Ataturk, your country needs you!   


He's getting closer,I wonder if he will reuse any of previous Presidential contenders speeches the way his wife did the other day?  Maybe he can afford to hire scriptwriters or possibly just spout any old rubbish from the lectern as many of his audience will cheer him anyway.


Talking of problems here our new Prime Minister has finished establishing her right wing government taking time to lie in her teeth to Scotland's First Minister Nicola Sturgeon and revealing the emptiness of her concern for the poorest.  She had said she offered a vision,  "A vision of a country that works not for the privileged few but works for every one of us," yet the new Secretary  of State for the DWP, that's the benefits people, is a Minister who has little concern for the poor having voted against every benefit and voted for every cut to any and all benefits introduced by the previous Dickens character Ian Duncan Smith.  Damian green, for it is he, now has the opportunity to ensure that those with debilitating illnesses, loss of limbs, sickness or death are declared 'fit for work' and their benefits removed from them post haste.  We will see soon whether this woman really wishes to serve the entire nation, maybe we are again 'all in it together?'

We might need this...

 
 

Saturday 31 October 2015

Grumbling a Wee Bit


Nothing exciting happening these days.  The halloween wagon is well under way.  Shops full of rubbish  that lasts for one night and few people understand the occasion and fewer still the reality of spirits.  We turn this into a kids playground opening their minds to the occult and its many dangers.  Much better what we had as kids,a party ducking for apples in basins of water and trying to eat treacle tarts hanging from the ceiling with hands tied behind our backs.  I canny mind the other activities.  Sad to see so many churches fail to understand the problem also.

The Poppy parade is however well under way.  People today comprehend the need and are willing to pay and wear poppies.  One or two things do annoy however.  One is the demand that everyone wears them.  The whole point of fighting for freedom is to ensure people can decide for themselves whether to wear them or not.  TV companies are bad at this as those who appear MUST be seen to wear a poppy in case the TV company gets a bad name, that is not right!  
Another point that annoys is the remembrance being turned into an event.  Instead of remembering people are wearing fancy poppies that cost money, TV channels offer elaborate poppies for women to show off and some events are less for remembrance than for get togethers. This is fine for ex-servicemen meeting up but for too many the real reason is forgotten.
From what I have seen of the Legion members these days few participated in the Second World War but many were in Korea, the forgotten war, Malaya fighting Communist insurgents, and those 'end of empire' conflicts when nations became independent, sometimes peaceably.  It is forgotten that British troops were in action somewhere in the world in every year since 1945 except 1958.  There was always some problem somewhere.  Today many ex-servicemen were involved in another forgotten conflict, one that most people today do not wish to remember - the Irish situation.  Many were shot in the back, blown up and maltreated while attempting to separate at preserve a divided nation that did not wish, and some say still does not wish, to keep the peace.  I sometimes feel we should be considering local memorials to those men who fell after 1945 and ensuring their names are not forgotten by being blended in with the armistice remembrance.

What do you mean I'm a grump?  Try these then if you wish....






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