March MGWAT Topic

[Russell Smith]

Okay, so I didn't need a couple of days to think on it after all. How about "Gentlemen and Warriors"?

Russ

[KateJ]

Good topic. Wish I could draw (please don't try to persuade me, I can't even very very slightly!)

Kate

[Landsturm]

"Gentlemen and Warriors" coming up Nice title...

[spike10764]

Excellent- pencils at the ready 'Gentlemen and Warriors' it is....

[Ozzie]

Here goes...not art or poetry, but, anyway,

Gentlemen and Warriors

The Sergeant sat on an upturned ammunition box, scratching his belly through a tear in his shirt. It was an unconscious movement; the lice bit, he scratched. Raising his dented cup, held in his other hand, he frowned at the other men.

“You men got no idea,” he said despairingly. “You just got here an’ you tink you know everytink!”

The new drafts who sat about him, moved uncomfortably. They were not used to seeing the Sarge in this state. So chummy, so honest. They glanced quickly at each other, then lowered their eyes, so as the Sarge wouldn’t see their confusion. This man, who seemed intent on telling them some home truths, seemed out of character, not the man who screamed at them, using words that would make a shearer’s cook cringe, who caught them out at every turn; your bloody rifle’s dirty, your kit’s a f*****’ disgrace, you’re an idiot, a five year old could do that better.

The Sarge nodded, as if receiving a word in his ear from someone not seen. He sat back, catching himself just in time, as he realised there was no back to his seat. A stifled giggle came from the rear of the men.

The Sarge glared at the offender.

“You may think that I’m a b******, but let me tell you something!” he spat his words out more clearly and slowly. “When you have seen and done what I have, you may laugh, but not till then.”

“Gentlemen…and I call you that….and you will see why. Gentlemen take their officer’s trunks, full of silver plate, writing equipment, wine and port, to war. Their boots shine, their buttons glow. They follow the rules. They have their officer’s mess tents, their officer’s café’s and hotels; all out of bounds to the men. They don’t drink rum, nooo…that the other ranks drink..They are of better stock than that! They come here full of ideas and training. But, that’s before they go into the trenches………”

He paused, his pale blue eyes boring into each soldier, as he looked about at them.

“Then, you see, they meet the other ranks. The ones who don’t eat a roast on Sundays, those that didn’t get an education. Then they meet the Hun. Gentlemen are led to believe that they were born to be officers! The other ranks know better. They have learnt life the hard way, from birth. They can pick a man who was born to lead…to be a warrior, and it won’t be by birthright. In the trenches…it all comes down to covering your ****, yours and your mates. If there’s half a loaf of bread and ten men, then there’s ten meals. If twenty men go out on a raid and five don’t come back, you go find ‘em.”

The Sarge paused again, raised his cup to his mouth and slurped at the liquid within. His wiped his chin where a dark dribble of liquid made its way through the stubble of whiskers.

“A gentleman can get a transfer, other ranks can’t. A gentleman has connections, other ranks don’t. But…and let you understand this,” he raised his cup to emphasise his point. “A gentleman can become a warrior, other ranks can become warriors, but a warrior can never be a gentleman. You see, when you have run your bayonet through a man, watched him die in front of you, when you have watched your mates die, blown apart, gassed, arms and legs torn off…, you do one of two things. You get used to it or you funk out. A warrior does not funk out. You get to know, like an animal knows, what will do and what won’t do. That’s it…you become an animal. And there is born the warrior. Sure, some men are nature’s gentlemen, born with it in ‘em. But this place, my lads, this place will turn anyone into an animal. It is them that can rise to become a warrior, and not an animal, that will do well, be you a gentleman or otherwise. So, you see, until you have been through it, and become the animal, then, until that day, I’ll call you gentlemen, and you will learn, that this is no place for a gentle man.”

He raised the cup to his lips once more, and drank off the remaining rum.

“Now, get the f*** out of here, and don’t say you weren’t warned.”

[Stebie9173]

Well, it don't scan, but it sure is poetry.

Well done, Ozzie.

Steve.

[spike10764]

Well done Kim....... a fine entry

[Russell Smith]

Nicely done, Ozzie. very interesting to see someone else's interpretation of the idea.

Now, I hope you all will forgive me. When I suggested the topic I had every intention of sketching out a new idea to submit. Unfortunately, though, I am finding myself in the midst of several commissions (which isn't a bad thing) and will be hard pressed for time to hash out a new idea at the moment, even if it is a quick sketch. Therefore, I respectfully submit a painting that is already a couple of years old;

A Lesson From The Master

In case you aren't familiar with the event and characters involved:

A Lesson From the Master is a depiction of the famous aerial encounter between Ernst Udet and Georges Guynemer. Both were out alone when they came across each other in the sky. A fight ensued which lasted for many minutes. After a long standoff, Udet finally drew a bead on Guynemer only to have his guns jam. Being defenseless at that point, Udet though himself a sitting duck. He beat on his guns with his fists in an attempt to unstop them, all the while anticipating the lethal shot from Guynemer. To his surprise, however, the unexpected happens - “For a moment I have let go of the stick and hammer the receiver with both fists. A primitive expedient, but sometimes it works.

Guynemer has observed this from above, he must have seen it, and now he knows what gives with me. I’m helpless prey. Again he skims over me, almost on his back. Then it happens: He sticks out his hand and waves to me, waves lightly, and dives to the west in the direction of his lines.

I fly home. I’m numb.”

Russ

[Soren]

Great Russ, story is fantastic

[spike10764]

Great painting and a true tale of gentlemen, Russ

[Landsturm]

British pilot helping out his wounded opponent, a German pilot from a downed plane. Illustrating the unspoken "brotherhood" between the knights of the air.

[spike10764]

Another gem, Lands.

Mine is two Gentleman rankers playing cards well behind the lines....

[Landsturm]

Nice idea, Spike

[Guest mythago]

Not really art, I don't think, but at Spike's prompting, here is my entry. Colourised using Photoshop.

Charles Roberts, British Red Cross Society.

[Desmond7]

Willie Redmond and a bloke from a different tradition who won the VC

[spike10764]

Not really art, I don't think, but at Spike's prompting, here is my entry. Colourised using Photoshop.

Your entry is welcome Cas, a worthy entrant.

Des, you sly dog ,you - an artist also

[shaymen]

Desmondo

You kept that talent quiet

Glyn

[Ozzie]

Nice to see new faces!

All very good.

Kim

[Soren]

OK Guys,

Not one for portraits, but a quick sketch of a true Gentleman and Warrior..... TE Lawrence

[Russell Smith]

Very nice, Soren. Love your expressive linework and the use of the black and white chalk on the colored paper.

Russ

[Landsturm]

Asking just for the matter of preparing... is my turn next?

[spike10764]

If you want to, mate....

[Soren]

is there meant to be a vote that I can yet again lose?

[spike10764]

Been away watching Carlisle United lose to Swansea at the Millennium Stadium . I will set the vote up later today or maybe tomorrow.....

Oh what the hell...I've done it now

Edited 3 April , 2006 by spike10764