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Remembered Today:

Battle of the Somme 100 years - 1916-2016


Seadog

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A general thread for the centenary, photos, soldiers, events anything relating to this battle. It would be good to have a place where all posts about the Somme can be brought together instead of a multitude of separate threads, well that is my opinion anyway :hypocrite:

 

THE REDAN RIDGE

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TWO VOICES

Edmund Blunden

 

“There`s something in the air,” he said
In the large parlour cool and bare;
The plain words in his hearers bred
A tumult, yet in silence there
All waited; wryly gay, he left the phrase,
Ordered the march and bade us go our ways.

“We're going South, man”; as he spoke
The howitzer with huge ping-bang
Racked the light hut; as thus he broke
The death-news, bright the skylarks sang;
He took his riding-crop and humming went
Among the apple-trees all bloom and scent.

Now far withdraws the roaring night
Which wrecked our flower after the first
Of those two voices; misty light
Shrouds Thiepval Wood and all its worst:
But still “There's something in the air” I hear,
And still “We're going South, man,” deadly near.
 

Norman

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The Lychet from the Hawthorn Crater, Beaumont-Hamel, October 2015


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25338580484_8bdabe3e92_z.jpg

Image

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/25338580484

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Image

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/25960456282

 

From Memoirs of an Infantry Officer by Siegfried Sassoon

 

" tonight I saw his shrouded form laid in the earth with his two companions (young Pritchard was killed this evening also). In the half-clouded moonlight the parson stood above the graves, and then everything was dim but the striped flag laid across them, Robert Graves, beside me, with his white whimsical face twisted and grieving. Once we could not hear the solemn words for the noise of a machinegun along the line; and when all was finished a canister fell a few hundred yards away to burst with a crash".

 

Nice one Toby truly the uplands of the Somme with the Redan in the distance.

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BLIGHTERS!
By Siegfried Sassoon

 

The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
“We’re sure the Kaiser loves the dear old Tanks!”

I’d like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or “Home, sweet Home,”
And there'd be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.

 

Image

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/25964679375

 

Norman

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26344383113_77c322d3a7_c.jpg

Taken from an original French stereoscopic slide this is British tank C16 commanded by 2nd Lt Eric Purdy, and is a "Female" type armed with twin Vickers machineguns in the side sponsons. On 15th September 1916 it was part of the attack on the German Lines near Combles when it was struck by a shell and lost a track. Eventually the crew removed the machineguns, set the tank on fire and abandoned it. 2nd Lt Purdy was awarded the Military Cross for this action. The photo shows two French soldiers with the tank.

 

My image onto an old postcard

 

Norman

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This is looking from the German lines at Gommecourt on the 1st July

in the distance you can see Gommecourt British Cemetery No.2

you can get a feeling about the height the Germans had on the 1st July and the task the 56th (London) Division had that day.

IMG_8022.jpg

and two brothers lost on the 1st July buried in said cemetery

2ew055h.jpg

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Nice one Danny thanks for posting

The Ancre at Thiepval

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Image Link

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/26853971672/in/photostream/

 

The Ancre At Hamel: Afterwards

Where tongues were loud and hearts were light
I heard the Ancre flow;
Waking oft at the mid of night
I heard the Ancre flow.

I heard it crying, that sad rill,
Below the painful ridge
By the burnt unraftered mill
And the relic of a bridge.
And could this sighing river seem
To call me far away,
And its pale word dismiss as dream
The voices of to-day?
The voices in the bright room chilled
And that mourned on alone;
The silence of the full moon filled
With that brook's troubling tone.

The struggling Ancre had no part
In these new hours of mine,
And yet its stream ran through my heart;
I heard it grieve and pine,
As if its rainy tortured blood
Had swirled into my own,
When by its battered bank I stood
And shared its wounded moan.

Edmund Blunden :
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That isn't Thiepval Chateau Norman. Isn't it the well on the way up to the communal cemetery?

I love the photo.

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Hi Toby this is situated on the rue de Grandcourt just up from the crossroads if I remember correctly and it is most definitely a well as a stone takes a long time to go plop!. I was told that this was the chateau well but of course it could have been a communal water source for the village. Any further info appreciated.

Norman

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Indeed, one and the same Norman.

I think you will find that the Chateau was situated exactly where the modern-day farm buildings stand, on Thiepval Memorial side of the crossroads. The well was almost certainly communal, pre-war there were buildings on that side of the Grandcourt Road, and the well was on the junction of another village road that no longer exists. You can see the well on the current aerial view, about halfway between the Mill Road junction and the copse of trees where the communal dustbins are located, just to the left hand side of the Grandcourt Road.

http://maps.nls.uk/geo/explore/#zoom=18&lat=50.0547&lon=2.6875&layers=101465251

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Thanks Toby so it looks like this is perhaps the only remaining bit of the original village to be seen and I have changed the description

Cheers

Norman

 

Meanwhile

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Images

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/26380210043/in/photostream/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/glosters/26984224755/in/photostream/

 

Suicide in the Trenches

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

 

Siegfried Sassoon

 

From an earlier time

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Fy3tSim3to

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Dear All,

What were those spike-like rods, with loops for barbed-wire (seen at seadog's post # 3), called?

I have one in my cellar: given to me by Jean, near Peronne in 2006. He (since deceased) seemed touched and grateful that I should have been retracing the 1918 footsteps of my late Australian grandfather (seen at left)...

Kindest regards,

Kim.

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Kim,

They were known as screw pickets, the advantage in using these was that they could be literally screwed into the ground with a lever inserted through the loop, this could be done fairly quietly as opposed to the earlier wooden stakes which had be driven in with a mallet.

Mike

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Soldiers carrying "silent" barbed wired pickets. From the German book "Der Weltkrieg im Bild" pub late 1930`s.

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Norman

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Dear Mike and Norman,

Thanks for that - now I know my Somme souvenir was called a Screw Picket; most interesting.

I would translate the caption from the German as follows:-

'British pioneers are shown carrying material forward to erect a barbed-wire barrier. The iron posts with spiral-formed ends were able to be screwed into the earth; a barbed-wire barrier could thereby be erected more or less silently. The finished result was also less vulnerable to Artillery fire, compared to wooden posts which had to be hammered into the earth.'

This confirms exactly what Mike and Norman have so ably stated, in fact...

Kindest regards,

Kim.

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Dear Norman,

My pleasure.

Apart from having lived in Germany for decades (born in Sydney), I am married to a German whose maternal grandfather was an artillery Leutnant d. R (Baden). He happened to have been on the Arras Front at the same time as my paternal grandfather, an Australian infantry Captain, endured a German artillery barrage.

Kindest regards,

Kim.

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Dear Norman,

Thanks for that: super photograph.

I loved seeing the Officers riding in comparative comfort in the back of the car; the steel-helmeted Officer seems to be holding a map.

In the front of the car, are perhaps Driver and Orderly (aka soldier-servant).

Kindest regards,

Kim.

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Kim I have great respect for the war photographers such as Ernest Brooks who took some stunning images under what must have been the most trying of conditions. Take this one for instance that today we could read as a comment on the division between the officers and men which may have been intended but could also just be our modern take on that aspect of the conflict. I think that had this particular image had been staged which it has not then no better composition would have been possible just look at the soldier on the extreme right looking at us and the Scotsman with the horse plus all the activity happening up on the bank of the road and is that the back of a lorry we can see?. Just one of the many photos in the superb book. Of course the most moving aspect of such an image is what happened to these men did they survive or are they still in Picardy resting in one of the immaculate war cemeteries.

 

Ernest Brooks Gallery

http://digital.nls.uk/first-world-war-official-photographs/pageturner.cfm?mode=gallery_grid&id=75171407&sn=1&from_row=1

 

One example

http://digital.nls.uk/first-world-war-official-photographs/pageturner.cfm?id=74546744&mode=fullsize

 

Regards

Norman

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Tremendous images as ever Norman, and moving words. Thanks you.

Pete.

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Thanks for looking Pete I hope that other members will post their contributions here words, pictures, poems et al. This is a very important anniversary for the Battle of the Somme still casts a long shadow even after 100 years and Siegfried Sassoon puts it brilliantly in my opinion:

 

AFTERMATH

Siegfried Sassoon

 

Have you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?...
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.

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