gporta Posted 3 November , 2006 Share Posted 3 November , 2006 ... While I was considering other subjects, other members rightly suggested that the more becoming theme for November would be... "11th Month, 11th Day, 11th Hour" Everyone's invited... submit your drawing, painting, poem, writing, photo, figure, diorama...etc. Gloria P.S.: I'm an html dummy , so I welcome tips about how to make the poll in December 1st Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 3 November , 2006 Share Posted 3 November , 2006 P.S.: I'm an html dummy , so I welcome tips about how to make the poll in December 1st Great topic, by the way To do a poll just follow this link and it's posts 44, 45 and 46....... How to Do a Poll Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Soren Posted 3 November , 2006 Share Posted 3 November , 2006 Well the real art here is Rupert's poem: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ypres1418 Posted 4 November , 2006 Share Posted 4 November , 2006 My little entry, 'A poppy is forever remembering, not just 11th November.' Mandy Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Owen D Posted 13 November , 2006 Share Posted 13 November , 2006 My entry has been drawn by my 5 year old son, Edmund. It shows him in uniform in a cemetery, the badge on the grave he tells me is a Wiltshires' one. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest tafski Posted 13 November , 2006 Share Posted 13 November , 2006 OWEN A budding artist will soon be giving Soren a run fer his money gets my vote in the poll bruce Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 14 November , 2006 Share Posted 14 November , 2006 Well, I won't compete with Edmund's drawing( as he's far better than me Here's my entry 11th Month 11th Day 11th Hour As I stood there, in my house, 11th month, 11th day, 11th hour. Eyes closed, head bowed, Listening to the mournful tones of the Last Post. As a million poppies rained down, From the skies, like a blood speckled shower. Big Ben struck, eleven chimes, That echoed as a distant ghost. Was it like this in '18 ? When the guns went silent. Did the soldiers pause, close eyes, And think of those lost ? Did calm really break out, In a wintry world of violence ? Or was it merely postponed; half time, To reap a greater loss ? The' war to end all wars,' It was supposed to be. So many gave their lives; their health, Their Sons and Daughters lost. And many have done since then, And here we count the cost. So stand silent and remember them, At the sound of the Last Post. At Beaumont Hamel, Thiepval, Menin Gate and Ulster Tower At Cenotaphs across the land, At Cross of Sacrifice; ( Or even stood at home) We stop and take time to remember, Those who gave their lives. Remember with pride, 11th Month, 11th Day, 11th Hour. I stood eyes closed, as the bugle faded, but was not brought to tears... Until the Lord Mayors Parade had started and the band struck up ' The British Grenadiers. ' Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest tafski Posted 14 November , 2006 Share Posted 14 November , 2006 my effort as i cant draw to save me live Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Garron Posted 14 November , 2006 Share Posted 14 November , 2006 Here's mine (excuse the picture quality I used my old camera phone, as i havent figured out how to use the new one ) Garron Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 14 November , 2006 Share Posted 14 November , 2006 11th Month 11th Day 11th Hour 11th Month, 11th Day, 11th Hour. I stood eyes closed, as the bugle faded, but was not brought to tears... Until the Lord Mayors Parade had started and the band struck up ' The British Grenadiers. ' That's really very moving, Spike - your best entry yet. Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ypres1418 Posted 14 November , 2006 Share Posted 14 November , 2006 Agree with Marina, great stuff. Mandy Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 Thanks Marina and Mandy, the best ideas often come from the truth. What has happened to your effort tafski? It was there this afternoon, but I can't see it now..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest tafski Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 spike its still there just seen it Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 So it is.......must have been the works computer Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 "11th Month, 11th Day, 11th Hour" Little explanation; There's a story of a German machine gunner who kept firing towards the enemy, belt after belt. It was informed that the hostilities would cease at exactly 11 o'clock. Exactly 11 o'clock the firing stopped. Lonely gunner stood up, walked few yards towards the enemy lines, took his steel helmet off and took a bow, like a musician after finishing a concert. Then he put his helmet back on and walked back to his own lines... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ypres1418 Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 a very moving picture, well done Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Owen D Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 Fair play Landsturm, didn't think of coming at it from that angle. I usually hate poetry but spike's ain't bad. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 15 November , 2006 Share Posted 15 November , 2006 "11th Month, 11th Day, 11th Hour" Little explanation; There's a story of a German machine gunner who kept firing towards the enemy, belt after belt. It was informed that the hostilities would cease at exactly 11 o'clock. Exactly 11 o'clock the firing stopped. Lonely gunner stood up, walked few yards towards the enemy lines, took his steel helmet off and took a bow, like a musician after finishing a concert. Then he put his helmet back on and walked back to his own lines... That's a beauty, Landsturm. Going to be hard to vote this month - I can tell already... Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 16 November , 2006 Share Posted 16 November , 2006 I've always liked that anecdote Landsturm, nice to see the act represented here. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 16 November , 2006 Share Posted 16 November , 2006 I think the figure ruined the pic... By the way, does anybody know more about this incident? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 16 November , 2006 Share Posted 16 November , 2006 I think the figure ruined the pic... By the way, does anybody know more about this incident? I think you're wrong on the figure ruining the pic.... As for the incident, I'm never sure whether it is the Great War equivalent of a Urban Myth or not. But it is a good story, a one that always makes me smile wryly. If it didn't happen , it should have.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gunboat Posted 16 November , 2006 Share Posted 16 November , 2006 I like the poem spike I am working on one myself hope to post later Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 19 November , 2006 Share Posted 19 November , 2006 Landstrum, love the story and picture. Spike, that one back me have goosepimples. Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 19 November , 2006 Share Posted 19 November , 2006 The Bugle. It hung above the mantle piece, dented and worn, by a frayed cord on a nail in the wall. The lustre of its metal had faded on the battlefield, never to be seen again as it once was. The walls plaster was cracked and smoke stained. The furniture coated in a thick layer of dust. An old chair, with its horse hair stuffing poking out, stood sentinel in front of the cold fireplace. The man sighed as he reached up, his bent, misshaped fingers missing the cord the first time. He tried again, and one finger latched onto the cord. Reverently he lifted the bugle down, clasping it to his chest, as if afraid he might drop it. With shaking hands he stroked the cold metal, following its curving shape with his fingers, until his forefinger touched the mouth piece. It hit him like a sledge hammer. He staggered and nearly fell. Like a blind man he groped for the old chair, falling into it, still grasping the bugle. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Closing his eyes, the ghosts danced behind his eyelids, blue stars surrounding their faces. Shaking his head to try to dispel the faces, his thoughts came back to the present. He had been very ill. For a long time. At first, those that should know better, thought that he was mad. But then, a doctor who had been there, came. He told them about the war. He told them about fear. He told them about shell shock. No one had been in this house for four years. That was how long they had kept him in the asylum. Now he was out. Now he had to learn to live again. This was the first step. To sound the bugle tomorrow. He had not played it since, well, since the day he had rallied his regiment to go over the top. Rallied them to their deaths, all of them. Tomorrow, he would play it again. This time, not for the army, but for them. In this dark and dusty room, alone, at Eleven am on the Eleventh of November, he would remember. Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eve Posted 19 November , 2006 Share Posted 19 November , 2006 That is so moving..brought a tear to my eye . Evelyn Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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