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Lest We Forget

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“Lest we forget”, a line from a poem called, “Recessional”, written by Rudyard Kipling for the Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jublilee 1897. The poem is now, also sung as a hyme on Anzac day, a national remembrance day for New Zealand and Australia, originally to remember those who fought at Gallipoli during World War I. It now commerates a broader range, remembering all those who fought in both World War I and II, those who put their lives on a thin line to support their allied countries. 

The reason why I’m giving this history lesson, is because today is Anzac day and I felt I needed to post a tribute type thing,  to remember my ancestors. So here I have posted the entire poem, “Recessional”, by Rudyard Kipling, if you care to read.

God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies—
The Captains and the Kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe—
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Amen.

 

Lest We Forget!

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A Life Of Memories

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He was thrown out of sleep, the rush of reality hit him hard in the face. Sweat drenched every inch of his body, but he felt cold, cold and numb inside. He had been in a fight with his duvet again, because it was twisted and tangled around him like knotted hair. His duvet wasn’t the only thing he was fighting with, he constantly wrestled with the memories that haunted his every waking moment of life.

Pictures and films of his memories passed through his brain, unforgiving, relentless, and reluctant to be let go. Like newborn babies, they clinged to him, and followed him everywhere. All he wanted was to forget, he would give everything up just to live without the haunting images.

Paintings of blood, films of war, songs of terror echoed in his brain. The smell of death lingered in his nostrils, an odious after taste of the war he’d fought in. He feared his memories, but every thought was comprised of them, the dread of thinking about it, hunted him, his memories were his life.

 

Escaping The Battle

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Escaping The Battle

It loomed above her, like a star, it seemed unreachable, but it was her goal to reach it, no matter how much she had to struggle to get it. Below her the bloodcurling screams and thunderous crashes of the battle raged on. Beneath her feet was a battle field, a slaughterhouse, an abattoir of terror. From the petrifying sounds below, she was given fuel to carry on. One at a time. One at a time. She repeated over and over in her head a million times as she climbed the rungs to the only exit left. She was fleeing the battle, the others would think of her as a deserter, an absconder, nothing but a coward. Unlike them, she had something to go back to though. Little did they know, but what she was doing the most courageous thing she could do.One at a time. One at time.She repeated, staring at the rungs like a hawk, her eyes were having to adjust to the light above, so she knew she was close. In her haste, one of her feet slipped,and in that terrifying moment her heart was in her mouth and she could feel in beating. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Thumping wildly like rabid animal inside her trying to escape. Regaining her grip on the rungs, she continued upwards. She began to wonder what foreign things were above her, and how her comrades were going down below. Someone would already have been redeployed in her position by now, they were quick like that. At last the light seemed close enough to see what was beyond the darkness below. As she neared the light, she realised an oversight she had made. The outside world was cut off by four metal bars closing the gap that would take her away from the hell she had been in. She gulped her dismay, unsure what to do. Should she go back to the battle? There was nothing else to do, expect to let go of the rungs and fall……

Sphrbn