Landsturm Posted 17 June , 2007 Share Posted 17 June , 2007 I keep introducing new artists to this forum... we'll soon see the work from my friend, Susanna Haavisto here... I just have to encourage her a little bit more. I saw her painting for this thread, and personally love it! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 18 June , 2007 Share Posted 18 June , 2007 I keep introducing new artists to this forum... we'll soon see the work from my friend, Susanna Haavisto here... I just have to encourage her a little bit more. I saw her painting for this thread, and personally love it! Please do encourage her to take part Landsturm, we always welcome new entrants Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 20 June , 2007 Share Posted 20 June , 2007 My effort with surrendering Boches. Kamerad! Kamerad! And I keep trying to fish votes with cute animals... EDIT: Reduced the image size, for a bigger view, please visit this page in my DeviantART gallery. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 20 June , 2007 Share Posted 20 June , 2007 Just had time to really read your entry, Spike. Very good! This time it was quite much the opposite of mine Arrousing, inspiring, yet not melodramatic! Hope you'll keep that up! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 20 June , 2007 Share Posted 20 June , 2007 Jes, Landstrum! The cat, the bandage, the worn coat..... it says so much! Love it. Cheers Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
susanhemmings Posted 20 June , 2007 Share Posted 20 June , 2007 I like this too. Lots to that entry Landsturm. Susan. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 21 June , 2007 Share Posted 21 June , 2007 Excellent Landsturm, captures the pitiful worn down look of soldiers who are trying to surrender. They look like they've been through the mill and came out hanging desperately onto their wits. The cat (a vote winner) is probably their way of showing their humanity to their potential captors.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 21 June , 2007 Share Posted 21 June , 2007 Spike, the cat looks like it has endured the hell with them, so it is more likely that the soldier can't bear the thought of leaving it behind to starve or suffer any more than it already has. Cheers Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gunboat Posted 21 June , 2007 Share Posted 21 June , 2007 I like this a lot landsturm. I love your use of monochrome. What is particularly effective for me is the discarded helmet, its a study in itself. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dan Morton Posted 22 June , 2007 Share Posted 22 June , 2007 Very nicely done, Landsturm! The cat and upturned helmet are both nice touchs. I wonder if you couldn't just do the upturned helmet alone, on a larger scale, with just a little of the wasteland and debris and that by itself would be an allegory/metaphor for "Kamerad"? Just a thought. All the best, Dan Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rolfi Posted 23 June , 2007 Share Posted 23 June , 2007 This drawing is based on the central figures in a photograph taken near Carnoy on 30 July 1916. All comments and opinions welcome. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 23 June , 2007 Share Posted 23 June , 2007 Dark. Black. His mood. His surroundings. The hour before dawn when all is still, and cold. When the Grim Reaper glides through the lives of men. Shrouded in his cloak of charcoal, his skeletal grin frozen in a grimace of pain and suffering,... and joy, he gathers another soul unto him. No screaming of shells, no bullets, no murmurs from the men as they tried to get comfortable in the dugouts below. Quietness? But there was never a truly quiet moment here. The wind played with the wire out in front of him, playing with the tin that hung from it, not giving warning of an enemy patrol, only Mother Nature playing her wilful games. He blew into his cupped hands, trying to put warmth into numbed fingers. His eyes flitted from side to side as he stared out across the broken, shattered earth that was No Man's Land. A movement arrested his roaming eyes, but they quickly moved on, as his mind told him it was a piece of tattered tunic, fluttering in the breeze, caught for a time on the barbed wire. The wire that stood between himself and them. Them, those that he did not know, nor understand. He could understand that they were soldiers like he, but why were they there? It was not their fight. His masters had started the push, the march into another country. Not them. He shook his head. Thoughts like that, could not help him. Unconsciously, his hand went to his breast pocket, slowly inching its way down into the depths of the material, and closing around a small metal locket. The warmth of the metal against the cold skin, seeped through into his thoughts. He glanced down, wondering why he had not noticed the action of his arm. He shrugged, accepting it as part of his state of mind. Drawing out the locket, he raised it to his lips, the hardness of it belying the softness that was held with its golden skin. In his mind he saw the blond curls of baby fine hair, entwined with the dark fine strands of his wife’s. Forever, he would remember her words as she unclasped the chain that the locket hung on. Forever he would see her throat, bare and devoid of his wedding gift. "I give this back to you, for you to hold, until you return to me and our son." Anger flooded through him, his hand tightening around the oval metal until it dug into his skin. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wisps of mist in the freezing air. Three years; for three years he had not laid eyes on his son, or his wife. He wrote, she wrote, but the words were not truth. They were words to keep each other going. How he longed to stroke her hair, to lie beside her, to toss his son in the air and catch him, watching his innocent face, full of joy. His finger stroked the finely engraved surface of the locket. As greyness struggled over the horizon, hell let loose again. Nothing new in that. The enemy was having a hate session. Giving his side a reminder that the war was not over. But his war was. There, in the trench, surrounded by his friends, his comrades, starving and worn out, he had made his decision. When they came over again, if their artillery had not killed him, he would do the unthinkable. He would lay down his rifle, and raise his hands. "Kamerad." He would see his son. Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 24 June , 2007 Share Posted 24 June , 2007 Nice stuff, Kim... The unrecognizability of the character's home country... I first thought it might be a soldier wearing a Brodie helmet, but now I'm no longer sure. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dan Morton Posted 24 June , 2007 Share Posted 24 June , 2007 Rolfi - A marvelous drawing! Very definitely in the spirit of 'Kamerad'! Excellent! Chris - Wow, a little life story in a few paragraphs! The spirit of life and will to live triumph over dull and blind obedience. Well done! All the best, Dan Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 24 June , 2007 Share Posted 24 June , 2007 Spike, you have alerted me to something. On rereading what I wrote, I now realize that there is only oblique pointers as to the soldiers nationality, and yet, when I was writing it, I saw him, in his uniform, as clear as day. But I did not convey that to the writing. I did not intentionally hide the soldier's home country. Thanks. Cheers Kim My post to Rolfie went into the ether??? I like your theme, Rolfi, a different angle. Cheers Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 24 June , 2007 Share Posted 24 June , 2007 Kim, it makes the tale all the more readable, I read throught it waitng for the "reveal" as to the nationality of the soldier. The title Kamerad gives a clue but the tantalisiong thing is you can't be sure until you see it in print. Rolfi- welcome and well done on your drawing. Some good entries this month..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
susanhemmings Posted 25 June , 2007 Share Posted 25 June , 2007 Rolfi, I very much like tis entry. Sharing a tot to steady the nerves. Kim. Thought provoking as always. So enjoy reading your entries. Well done all. Susan. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 27 June , 2007 Share Posted 27 June , 2007 Here it is. By my class mate and a good friend, Susanna Haavisto (see more artwork from her). To view in better resolution, visit her DeviantART-page >click here<. Hahaa! I made her do it and it looks great! Great talent! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 27 June , 2007 Share Posted 27 June , 2007 Impressive, the style and medium makes it look almost tear-streaked- fits wonderfully with the sad faces in the picture. From Susanna' s Artists Comments on DeviantArt "this assignment was given to me by when I asked for a subject to paint of. The task was to paint something that will fit the title that was given ("Kamerad"), and I must admit that it was a challenging one since I suck totally at history and my knowledge about war is near zero. To add some more challenge, this is going to be posted on the Great War Forum in a contest (no other prizes though than getting to decide the next title for the contest). I'm curious to see how many votes this painting will end up getting, as I doubt it's credibility, as a painting I like it. I also want to thank ~patriatyrannus for giving me so much info on this subject (which I DO FIND interesting), thank you. " Well Susanna, maybe your knowledge of the Great War is zero as you put it, but that is a fine painting.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gunboat Posted 28 June , 2007 Share Posted 28 June , 2007 Wow! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 29 June , 2007 Share Posted 29 June , 2007 Just bumping this up one last time- two days to go and it'll be time for the poll. Any late entrants please post your efforts now..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gunboat Posted 29 June , 2007 Share Posted 29 June , 2007 "Kamerad?" He was scared. Eight men had volunteered to stay, whilst the rest of the company withdrew. Eight men against how many? Eight men armed with rifles and a few bombs against a force that had already overwhelmed a number of the adjoining trenches and were fighting their way through to them. “Hold it to the last” the Captain had said as he shook the hand of lieutenant Wallace and went taking the rest of Wallace’s platoon with him. There followed a flurry of activity as they used everything they could lay their hands on to barricade the end of the trench. Now it was just a matter of waiting. Why had he volunteered he asked himself as he lay behind the lip of the firestep his stomach churning. Well for a start his pals Archie and Charley had, and because that b*st**d Sgt Williams had looked directly at him. Williams had always had it in for him, had got his card marked as a bad soldier…yes he had looked directly at him as if to say… Go on then Smith… I know how scared you are…why don’t you scurry off and save your skin…do it… go on leave your mates here. Yes he was scared…so what! He didn’t want to die, he wanted to live. What the hell is wrong with that? But he had no choice after that had he? He stepped forward hoping it would wipe that sneer from Williams face. It didn’t Williams just turned to the young officer and said “that’s eight of us sir.” Well if he was going to die he would enjoy seeing Williams go first. Smith stiffened as a figure emerged above the barricade, his finger tightened against the trigger. Hang on it was a khaki figure and another, they were trying to scramble over the barricade. Archie and Charley dashed over and pulled one of them over. As soon as he was over he was on his feet pushing them aside, his eyes were wide with panic…and he started to run, “There’s hundreds of ‘em run, run!” Wallace blocked his way and shouted at him to pull himself together but the man broke away screaming. His panic was infectious and three of the party grabbed their rifles and started to run back down the trench with him. All the senses in Smith’s body told him to follow them; but his legs wouldn’t move. Every fibre in his muscles, urged him to get up and go, but he couldn’t. He just lay there, panting, exhausted, almost in tears. He looked up and noticed Williams was watching him. “Stand…Stand… you cowards or I will shoot!” Wallace levelled his revolver at the fleeing men, but Sgt Williams took his arm… “Leave them sir… look” Archie and Charley were tugging at the webbing of the other soldier trying to get him over the barricade but he was being held by the legs from the other side. The young lad was screaming his arms flailing like a man drowning. Wallace and Williams grabbed at his arms. It looked for a moment like they would win the grizzly tug of war, the young soldier was almost half way over. There was a horrible squeal and the young lad cried out for his mother. He went limp, his eyes rolled backwards. They let him go and he fell back into the grey sea behind him. “You B*st**ds…..you dirty rotten b*st**ds” this was Archie pulling apart the barricade to get at the Germans beyond. “BOMB!” A stick grenade landed at Archie’s feet and Charley dived, grabbed it, and threw it back over. Another landed near him and he scrambled to reach it. The two explosions came almost simultaneously. For a moment it felt as if the earth had had been pulled like a blanket from under Smith. He felt a great heat on his face and a concussive blow like someone kicking him hard. He was covered in pieces of debris, he shook them off and slowly raised his head. The barricade had been holed by the explosion and the enemy was pouring like water through a breached damn. Charley was no where to be seen and what was left of Archie lay twitching on the running board. Wallace fired his revolver and three bodies fell stemming the tide momentarily. He raised his revolver again and then he staggered forward. Williams was fighting hand to hand with three men. He bayoneted two and clubbed another with the butt of his rifle. He parried oncoming blow but was then run through the shoulder. Smith fired and the assailant fell before he could finish Williams off. He fired another two times into the throng and called over to Sergeant Williams that he had him covered and to pull back. Williams shook his head. Smith could do little but watch as Williams dashed forward with his bayonet. He was overwhelmed in moments and was rifle butted and kicked to the ground. He lay curled in a ball as the blows rained down on him. They stopped and he struggled to his knees in front of about five men. One of them squatted down and offered a cigarette. “Zigarette Kamerad….ja..Kamerad?” Williams looked over at Smith, and gave an almost imperceptible nod; it seemed to say “you’ve proved yourself Smith my lad, now get yourself out of it”. Williams looked up at the faces and opened his hand revealing the mills bomb “Kamerad?...Go to hell!” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 29 June , 2007 Share Posted 29 June , 2007 A twist in the tale, Gunboat- an unusual angle on the theme- well done.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 30 June , 2007 Share Posted 30 June , 2007 Gunboat, excellent. Glad you made it! Cheers Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 30 June , 2007 Share Posted 30 June , 2007 Excellent entries everyone - I'll do the poll tomorrow- the first multi choice poll of the MGWAT..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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