Britain is FUBAR in my opinion.
I need out!
Nick
Britain is FUBAR in my opinion.
I need out!
Nick
"In all my years as a soldier, I have never seen men fight so hard." - SS Obergruppenfuhrer Wilhelm Bittrich - Arnhem
Well, whatever they say we can always remember those sombre words...............
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
AND NEVER FORGET, the sacrifice our forfathers gave.
Thanks for the support on this one guys, there is a lot of truth in those lines
"Their name lives forever"
(in every country but the UK)
tom
Tomorrow is the day we remember our friends, the good brave men that gave their lives, the soldiers that we worked with, who shared our food and water, our smokes and our lives.
Let us also not forget our friends who came home marked - not in body, but in mind, who still live each and every day with the pain and the thoughts of the past, with their friends who didn't beat the clock.
We will remember them all.
Wear your poppy with pride and respect for all - they gave their tomorrows for our today.
"In all my years as a soldier, I have never seen men fight so hard." - SS Obergruppenfuhrer Wilhelm Bittrich - Arnhem
Why don't you all come here? 10 years ago 25 percent of W.A.'s population was born in the UK, not sure what it is now but our state is 2.5 million sq kilometres with a population about the same as Manchester.
Fine words indeed....But it is not only our forfathers we should remember, it's our sons and daughters too. I have seen those that made it home in the Q.E. hospital in Birmingham in May, and I will be seeing more of their like from Thursday next week no doubt. It makes me cry...
Anyway, here's an updated poem of Mr. Kipling (who happens to make exceedingly good cakes) with apologies to his soul for the liberty!
A MODERN TOMMY ATKINS (AFTER RUDYARD KIPLING)
They flew me ‘ome from Helmand with a bullet in me chest. ‘Cos they’ve closed the army ‘ospitals, I’m in the NHS. The nurse, she ‘aint no Britisher an’ so she ain’t impressed. It’s like I’m some street corner thug who’s come off second best.
Yes, it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “You’re not welcome ‘ere.” But when Saddam was collar’d, they was quick enough to cheer. They’re proud when Tommy Atkins ‘olds the thin red line out there. But now he’s wounded back at ‘ome, he has to wait for care.
Some stranger in the next bed sez, “Don’t you feel no shame? You kill my Muslim brothers!” So it’s me, not ‘im to blame! An’ then the cleaner ups an’ sez, “Who are you fightin' for? It ain’t for Queen and country, it’s America’s bloody war!”
It’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy what’s that smell?” But it’s "God go with you, Tommy," when they fly us out to ‘ell. O then we’re just like ‘eroes from the army’s glorious past. Yes, it’s “God go with you, Tommy,” when the trip might be your last.
They pay us skivvy wages, never mind were sitting ducks. When REMFs what’s pushing brooms at ‘ome don’t know their flippin’ luck. “Ah, yes” sez they “but think of all the travel to be ‘ad.” Pull the other one. Does Thomson do ‘olidays in Badakshan?
It’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy know your place,” But, it’s “Tommy, take the front seat,” when there’s terrorists to chase. An’ the town is full of maniacs who’d like you dead toot sweet. Yes. It’s “Thank you, Mr Atkins.” When they find you in the street.
There’s supposed to be a covenant to treat us fair an’ square. But I ‘ad to buy me army boots, an’ me combats is threadbare. An’ ‘alf the bloody ‘elicopters can’t get into the air. An’ me rifle jammed when snipers fired. That’s why I’m laid up ‘ere.
Yes, it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, “We ‘ave to watch the pence”, Bold as brass the P.M. sez, “We spare them no expense.” But I’ll tell you when they do us proud an’ pull out all the stops, It’s when Tommy lands at Lyneham in a bloomin’ wooden box !
Ned.
'I do not think we can hope for any better thing now.
We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker of course, and the end cannot be far.
It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more. R. SCOTT.
Last Entry - For God's sake look after our people.'
In memory of Capt. Robert Falcon Scott, Edward Wilson, Henry Bowers, Lawrence Oates and Edgar Evans. South Pole Expedition, 30th March 1912.
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