Showing posts with label Remembrance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Remembrance. Show all posts

Saturday, 7 November 2020

Excellent reading for Remembrance Day

 


As we are nearing Remembrance Day once again an excellent choice of reading would be Dr Karen Ette’s Don’t Be Late in the Morning, a vivid portrayal of a rural working class community before and during the First World War. The warmth and the hardships are evocatively conveyed through vivid domestic detail - paraffin lamps and outside ‘lavvies,’ smells of lavender polish and soot in the parlour ‘kept for best.’ There are also lesser known stories such as the personal and social cost of laudanum addiction fuelled by unscrupulous pharmacists. 

When Emily’s mother dies she is forced, at eleven, to leave her four beloved brothers and live with her cruel, resentful aunt; at twelve she is old enough to leave school and go into service. As war breaks out and the recruiting drive swings into action the young men in the village join up with brothers, cousins, school mates, boys they played football with, and friends from the Sunday School. While the novel is set in Leicestershire, it was a familiar pattern all over the country. 

 David is accused by an army Major of being a ‘shirker’ because he is not in uniform, despite the fact he works in the boot and shoe industry, a reserved occupation. Leicester factories at that time were producing military footwear, including boots for the Russian army. Not wanting to be seen as a coward, he volunteers. When Emily agrees to become David’s fiancĂ© before he leaves for the war, local gossips are scandalised. David Adcock and Emily Jane Wade are the author’s grandparents. 

As she writes in the Afterword: ‘The novel ‘Don’t be Late in the Morning ‘is a work of fiction but it is founded upon a detailed reading of military history, official documents, and most significantly, unpublished primary sources, which reveal the human and personal cost of the conflict.’ 

Postcards, birthday cards, letters, diary entries and photographs are reproduced in the novel. The context of the war is conveyed through family debates around the kitchen table, newspaper articles discussed in the pub, and political meetings talked about after football matches. Ernest, Emily’s brother joins up because he is ‘sick of skiving leather... I’ll get regular meals, free uniform, no board to pay and a regular wage.’ That and the chance to travel was ‘everything I’ve always wanted.’ Those who volunteered were proud to see their names appear in the Roll of Honour printed each week in the Leicester Mercury. The pace of the novel increases with descriptions of Leicester ‘taken over by the military,’ with patriotic parades, marching bands, barracks life and square bashing, banter and camaraderie. 

Girls and young women saw brothers, cousins, neighbours and sweethearts go to war. Some, like Emily’s colleague were left to cope with unwanted pregnancies. Emily now works in the Post Office and delivers mail; new opportunities meant she could leave service, as many young women did at that time. Middle class women bemoaned the lack of domestic servants. 

Dr Ette is unsparing in her descriptions of the brutality of trench warfare. That the reader knows the names, faces and families of the young volunteers adds to the horror. She describes events on 13th October 1915, in what she calls the ’forgotten Battle,’ the Battle of Hohenzollern Redoubt. This action took place during the final stage of the Battle of Loos, a battle that does not receive the same coverage as later battles on the Somme and Third Ypres. On that one day over 500 young men were killed, many from the 1st/4th Battalion of the Leicester Regiment. Most were between the ages of 17 and 23. It was said that in some parts of Leicester there was such a density of casualties that distraught families could be heard grieving from house to house. 

 Obituaries from the Syston Parish Magazines are reproduced, often with photographs posed for so proudly at the outset of the war. ‘Captain of the Football club and one of the most regular boys in Mr Pain’s Bible Class,’ ‘...formerly a member of our Church Sunday School..., ‘Our sympathy goes forth to his widowed mother and relatives and we trust that the sense that the boy did his duty will be a consoling thought to them in their sorrow...’ 

The excellent bibliography gives an opportunity to learn more about events and individuals briefly referred to in the novel, for example Ramsay Macdonald, MP for Leicester and first leader of the Labour Party who opposed the war and ridiculed those who said it would be over by Christmas. His meetings in Leicester were disrupted by mob violence and on more than one occasion the police had to get him into a car before he was physically attacked. In August 1914 he wrote in the Leicester Daily Post. ‘Peace, if it is to be anything more than a patched up affair, is to raise anew some of the questions which have given Europe most trouble, as for instance the position of Poland.’ 

Other less well known stories include that of Kulbir Thapa, a Gurkha soldier awarded the Victoria Cross for rescuing a Leicestershire Regiment soldier from behind enemy lines, and then going back to save two men from his own battalion. 

Another tantalising reference in the novel is to John Manners, son of the 8th Duke and Duchess of Rutland. His mother, Violet Manners, used her influence to obtain a fraudulent medical discharge for him before he saw any action with his regiment, the 4th Battalion Leicestershires. She did not want to lose the heir to Belvoir Castle. The full story was published in Catherine Bailey’s ‘The Secret Rooms,’ Viking 2012.

Sue Mackrell 
5.0 out of 5 stars 

Thursday, 30 June 2016

Somme Remembrance - 1st July 1916

As we remember those who fought on the 1st July 1916, many of whom died on the battlefield in hopelessness, I would like to share an extract from a publication in which I have written a fictional tale, based on the diaries of a nurse and a stretcher-bearer, who experienced the horror that was The Battle of the Somme.


Image: Creative Commons

At the Going Down of the Sun


Friday, 30th June 1916

            “No, Sister, leave me be, I’m just about fed up with this splinter on me arm, and this leg – me leg’s very painful!’
            Paige smiled at the man with splints on his right arm and leg that he insisted on calling splinters. “Come on, Joe, let me change your dressing,” she urged, “you’re going home today.”
            “All right, Sister,” Joe submitted, “but make sure you do it right, I’ll be watching you.”
            “I promise I shall.” Paige liked Joe. “But I’m not a sister,” she told him.
            Above the continuous roar from the guns a tremendous bang rocked the ground and the roof of the tent beat its gigantic wings above them.
            “Be careful, will ya,” Joe scolded, “I don’t want to lose my arm like he has.” He pointed to the man in the next bed with nothing but a blood-stained stump where his arm should have been.
            “It’s only Grandmother sending another big one over,” a second-lieutenant with a head wound and lying in a bed opposite called over the racket.
            “It sounds awfully close,” Paige said, trying to concentrate on Joe’s splinted dressing when she would really rather have been covering her ears.
            “It’s a fifteen-inch Howitzer beside the railway line just behind us,” the junior officer told her. After much cursing from Joe, Paige was able to finish his dressings and move on to the next man in need of attention. Her back ached with all the bending and lifting and the tight collar of her uniform irritated her neck. Eventually Sister signalled to the stretcher-bearers, who had been sitting smoking by the tent’s entrance, to come onto the ward and begin taking these wounded soldiers to the hospital trains. As beds became empty, Paige removed soiled sheets and replaced them with cleaner ones. She was leaning over a bed at the end of the ward when she felt strong arms encircle her waist.
            “Hello gorgeous,” Wesley whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her neck. “Ooh, you smell of..” He hesitated.
            “Yes?” Paige answered, turning to face him.
            “Antiseptic and smoke.”
            “I wonder why that is! What in God’s name were you thinking, bringing us here?”
            “I thought we could make a difference. You look very fetching in your nurse’s uniform.” He raised his eyebrows and kissed her cheek.
            “VAD,” Paige corrected him. “You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face if Sister catches us,” she warned.
            Another blast shook the Casualty Clearing Station and Paige fell against Wesley.
            “Come on, mate,” a young man dressed in khaki with a red cross on his arm, the same as Wesley had, was calling to him.



Extract from At the Going Down of the Sun in Summer Tales published by Ruler's Wit, July 2016.

© Karen Ette

Saturday, 10 November 2012

Syston lads remembered: step- brothers paying the ultimate sacrifice




Up the Line

Serre Road Cemetery No. 1, Somme.


Up the line


Standing in rows


A whistle blows.
Loved ones weeping.
In the fields
Poppies grow,
Where friends and foe
Are sleeping.
In our hearts
We hold them dear
Who knew no fear.
Memoria keeping.
We will remember them.


Lance Corporal 24396 Whattoff Adcock
2nd Btn South Staffs Regt
Killed in Action 15 November 1916
Age - 27
                      


  
Private 10830 G E Wade (Ernest)
7th Btn Leicestershire Regiment
Killed in Action - 1st October 1917
Age - 23
   



                

 Answering their country's call

© Karen Ette 

Friday, 11 November 2011

Call of Duty - Remembrance

REMEMBRANCE

"They shall grow not 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."    
                                                                                                           Laurence Binyon
 
11-11-11-1918                                                                                 11-11-11-2011

So many have lost their lives under the tainted banner of war.  They gave the ultimate sacrifice and in return we can wear our poppies with pride and remember them.  Without their courageous acts, we would be living very different lives today.

Symphony of Sacrifice

For King and country
I took the pledge,
accepted the King’s shilling;
you cheered and waved us on.
Exhausted we marched
through gory, bloody mud,
syncopated shellfire pounded
its pitiless claim on the weary and lost.
Missing, you were told.
Just a name carved in stone
is all that remains
of the life I once had.
   Please remember me.

For King and country
allegiance I affirmed.
Never said my goodbyes;
would always return.
Spitfires and Hurricanes
soared, ducked and dived.
Airfields waiting,
anticipating
a joyful home-coming flight.
I should have said goodbye.
My name now carved
on a cenotaph somewhere.
Please remember me.

For Queen and country
I put out to sea
with shipmates to glory
we sailed.
Our vessel, the Sir Galahad,
carved through strong waves.
The eighties were good,
for you maybe,
but bombs and missiles
rained down.
The knight was burned and lost at sea,
 becoming our watery grave.
Please remember me.

For Queen and country
I took the pledge.
Ready to serve
on a mission for peace.
In Helmand I prayed,
but it wasn’t to be.
A sniper was waiting
his sights steadily held.
*Out of nowhere
the bullet silently flew,
engraved with my name.
Please remember me.

 Karen Ette  11 November 2011

In World War 1 about 880,000 men from the United Kingdom, plus a further 200,000 from other countries in the British Empire and Commonwealth died, many never found but are remembered on memorials to the missing.

Thiepval Memorial
Somme


 
Menin Gate, Ieper (click to see more images)



                   







There  were 382,700 British military deaths in  World War 2


255 British military died in the Falklands war

On 11 November 2011 there had been 385 British deaths in Afghanistan since operations began there in October 2001.

On 11 November 2012 the number of British military deaths rose to 438.

           On 26 April 2014 the number of deaths became 453
after 

Lance Corporal Oliver Thomas, 26 of 3 Military Intelligence Battalion
Corporal James Walters, 36 of the Air Corps
Warrant Officer, Class 2, Spencer Faulkner, 38 of the Air Corps
Flight Lieutenant Rakesh Chauhan, 29 of the RAF Intelligence Branch
Captain Thomas Clarke, 30 of the Air Corps

died when their helicopter crashed in Kandahar Takhta Pul district


          



For the full story, please click here




The UK lost 179 servicemen and women during the campaign that followed the invasion of Iraq on 
20 March 2003, including 

Photographs courtesy of Chris's mum

Senior Aircraftman Christopher Dunsmore

Senior Aircraftman Christopher Dunsmore was one of three RAF servicemen killed in a mortar attack on their base in Basra. The three men had been on a break from duties when it was hit.  http://www.chrisdunsmore.co.uk/










To read Laurence Binyon's  poem To the Fallen in full, please click here
 *To read Out of Nowhere please click here


© Karen Ette