Requiescat in Pace

There are other much more capable than I to reflect on the legacy of Queen Elizabeth II, but please accept my humble attempt to honor one who represented what is good in the world.

To begin I must say that I do not understand the Monarchy. Or, should I say I understand it, but I don't understand it. I do not see how one family can be considered to be so superior to every other that the destiny of a country is put in that family's hands. I say that about the Windsors. I say that about the Kennedys, the Bushes, the Clintons, the Obamas and -- yes -- the Trumps.

I rather doubt the Monarchy would have survived Edward VIII. Edward represented the selfishness that is now on full display in Harry and Megan. There was enough opposition to the Monarchy even back then that if the UK under Edward had been on the winning side in World War II -- which is doubtful -- people would have been so tired of the status quo that they would have clamored for a new social structure. As it is, there are not many things that can compare to the Second World War as an impetus for British social change.

As it turns out Edward was not the Monarch during such a pivotal time in his country's history. He abdicated in 1936, making his younger brother, the stuttering second son Albert -- otherwise knows as George VI -- the King.

George was never expected to be King -- but he became King anyway. He stepped up to the position before one of the most perilous times in British history. He stepped up and became the leader that a war-time country needed. Right behind him was his daughter, Elizabeth.

Early in the war, at the age of 14, the young Elizabeth was called upon to speak to British children who had been sent abroad to escape the horrors of war.

 

Elizabeth did not hide behind her title during the war. She was a truck driver and a mechanic. When Germany surrendered in 1945, Elizabeth did not want to remain in her royal conclave. Elizabeth sneaked out to be among the people.

In 1947, Elizabeth celebrated her twenty-first birthday. On that day, she made a vow to the British Commonwealth.

 

 

The vow that Elizabeth made seventy-five years ago was a vow that she took seriously and lived up to every day of her life. Elizabeth became Queen when her father died at age 56 in 1952. If there ever was a Monarch who exemplified what a Monarch should be, it was Elizabeth. She stood by her people. She was a strong and compassionate leader as the world stumbled into the future.

The United Kingdom, in fact the world, owes a debt of gratitude to the Queen who was a guiding light for seventy years.

I do not understand the Monarchy. However, I do honor Queen Elizabeth II. Her passing is another step into a future that hopefully will find another as inspirational as she.

May she rest in peace.

Lest We Forget

In Flanders Fields

John McCrae - 1872-1918

• 
• 
• 

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place; and in the sky
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved and were loved, and now we lie
        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: 
To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high. 
    If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
        In Flanders fields.

11. 11. 2018 - The 100th Year Anniversary of Armistice Day

Never forget.

Humbled and grateful on this day, and every day, for those who sacrificed everything for us.

Ashamed and forlorn that those sacrifices are being trampled on and ignored by most of Europe today.

I pray that someone or something will somehow turn this around.

I pray that we never surrender our values, our morals, our duty to future generations and our humanity.

I pray that we are not too late.




John McCrae's In Flanders Fields is probably the best known poem of WW1. But there is another very famous war poet from that era, Wilfred Owen, who gets forgotten and overlooked. His most famous and most devastating poem is titled:

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

Notes: Latin phrase is from the Roman poet Horace: “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country.”

More Death and Carnage

I was saddened by the horrific events in Pittsburgh this weekend. It seems the nuts are coming out of the woodwork, but it's no surprise. The ramped up rhetoric of the past decade is a siren call to the mentally ill; those who would shoot up a church or synagogue, those who would gun down a man playing softball, or massacre a club full of gays having a good time, or badly beat a neighbor out mowing his yard.

It will get worse before it gets better.

I read that the synagogue in question has declared our President persona non grata until he denounces white nationalism. That's not helping, and is only pitting one group of Americans against another yet again.

I don't hang out on FB or twitter much, but I did peek in and noticed a strange silence. My Jewish friends were understandably upset, and my far-left friends and family were virtue-signalling themselves into a sickening self-satisfied dither. But most folks were very quiet. They're horrified by the carnage, and know in their hearts there is more to come.

White nationalists, or more properly American nationalists, are a hard-working, law-abiding bunch that like peace and order. All the shrieking and ridiculousness being crammed down their throats 24/7 isn't sitting well. People that ten years ago would be running to your door with a casserole and a hug during times of tragedy are instead warily peeking out their door to assess friend or foe. It's very sad. Our national motto is E Pluribus Unum, but we have become E Unum Pluribus.

I pray for the victims and their families, and I pray for our beautiful country. May God hold us in His protective hand and heal our broken hearts. Amen.

How The West Was Won

While we are eagerly anticipating a wonderful family post (hint hint) from the lovely and brilliant Magic Fayre, who is currently acrost yon pond, I thought I would whet your appetite for history and historic things. This is a bio of a pioneer woman, written by her daughter in 1921. I will post it as I found it, without editing:

Wee Hours of the Morning

Pull up a chair and let me pour you a glass of wine....







And to soothe a sorrowful soul....





Feel free to add your favorites.






Here's one I'd like to post for him.

Sunday Morning Gratitude

Taps.



This is so beautiful and poignant it brought tears to my eyes. May God bless the brave men and women who keep us free.

America

The Last Crossing

The Last Crossing

   by lady red

This is a story of family, and a story of faith. It is also a story of America, and the remarkable resilience and spirit that forged our fledgling nation.

Our tale begins at, well, the beginning: in the boondocks of western New York, in the decades following the Revolutionary War. During the period of what is now known as the Second Great Awakening, there lived a family named Smith. They lived in the "Burned-Over District", so named for the religious evangelical fervor that was embraced by its residents, led mostly by the Baptists and the Methodists. The Smith family was no exception, and they spent many an evening reading the bible and discussing religion. 

RIP Leonard Nimoy

Brooklyn, and The Nation, In Mourning

Two of our men in blue won't be celebrating Christmas with their families. They are dead tonight, ambushed and executed by a low-life scum.

The simmering cold war involving the NYPD and various elements of New York's population just went nuclear when a little before 3:00 PM, reports hit that two NYPD officers were shot in their patrol car, and subsequently died, in what has been dubbed an "execution style" ambush in Brooklyn's Bed-Stuy area. The alleged shooter was chased by police and subsequently died of a self-inflicted gun wound.

Reports are that the shooter, who allegedly killed his girlfriend earlier in the day, took the coward's way out rather than face the music for his utter barbarity and depravity. He posted an Instagram message before carrying out his despicable plan, claiming the executions were in retaliation for Eric Gardner and the thug Mike Brown.

I hope the mayor is fucking happy for throwing gasoline on the fire. I guarantee he won't be welcome at the funerals of these officers.

November 11, 2014

At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we shall remember them.

2014 is the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of WW1. At the Tower of London 888,246 ceramic poppies have been installed, each one representing a British or Commonwealth fatality of The Great War.

 

 

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
by John McCrae

Happy Independence Day America

Odd thoughts on this day:

The 4th of July was my favorite holiday for over half a century. Today, the celebration seems somber. I fear that the divides within our nation cannot be resolved. No, let me rephrase...I feel certain that the divides within our nation cannot be resolved.

We are being invaded by hundreds of thousands of...children. It's a brilliant strategy on The Traitor JEM's part; how can you deny the children, you big meanies! They're cold! And hungry! (and teeming with diseases that will quickly overwhelm our ability to respond. This WILL become a national emergency.)

Why are educated people vowing to boycott Hobby Lobby? It's the most ignorant and knee-jerk thing I've ever heard.

If the Weather Channel denizens get any more excited about Hurricane Arthur their hearts may explode. What a big bucket of hyperventilation over a little wind and water.

On a less cynical note: it's a gorgeous day in the Ozarks. Lush and green, with flowers and water everywhere. A rustle of wind, a brilliant blue sky. Tonight, we'll watch the fireworks on the lake from our deck. I'll probably sip on a beer. Hubs is working a night shift caring for a disabled youngster, so he'll have tea in his glass. Happy 4th of July folks!

Also...Happy Birthday solus. You are truly and achingly missed.

Remembrance Day 2013

HEROES

 Noel Godfrey Chavasse was born in Oxford on 9th November, 1884. Chavasse was educated at Liverpool College and Trinity College, Oxford . After graduating with first class honours in 1907 he studied medicine. In 1908 Chavasse and his twin brother, Christopher, represented Britain in the Olympic Games in the 400 metres.

On the outbreak of the First World War Chavasse offered to serve in France. He was transferred to the Western Front in November 1914 where he was attached to the Liverpool Scottish Regiment. In the first few months he was kept busy dealing with trench foot, a condition caused by standing for long periods in mud and water.

In March 1915 the regiment took part in the offensive at Ypres, where poison gas was used for the first time. By June 1915 only 142 men out of the 829 men who arrived with Chavasse remained on active duty. The rest had been killed or badly wounded. Chavasse was promoted to captain in August 1915 and six months later was awarded the Military Cross for his actions at the Battle of Hooge. In April 1916 he was granted three days leave to receive his award from King George V.

In July 1916 Chavasse's battalion was moved to the Somme battlefield near Mametz. On the 7th August the Liverpool Scottish Regiment were ordered to attack Guillemont. Of the 620 men who took part in the offensive, 106 of the men were killed and 174 were wounded. This included Chavasse who was hit by shell splinters while rescuing men in no-mans-land. For this he was awarded the Victoria Cross. In February 1917 he was granted 14 days leave in England.

He returned to the Liverpool Scottish Regiment and took part in the offensive at Passchendaele. For nearly two days he went out into the battlefield rescuing and treating wounded soldiers. It was during this period Noel performed the deeds that gained him his second Victoria Cross. After being badly wounded he was sent to the Casualty Clearing Station at Brandhoek. Although operated on he died on 4th August 1917. Noel Godfrey Chavasse was Britain's most highly decorated serviceman in the war.