Military Chat

In memory of all that have suffered as a consequence of conflict.

On the 17th February 1943, my father's eldest brother died. He had been taken ill on board a ship taking him to Algeria.

He was taken off the ship and into hospital. One of his brother's was in the area and he was found and taken to the hospital to spend time with his very sick brother.

Uncle Frank died in Algeria and is buried in the Dely Ibrahim War Cemetery, but his name was never put on the War Memorial in his local town...maybe because he died of illness rather than as the result of battle.

This year however, his name has been added to the local War Memorial
...Never to be Forgotten.

We will remember them.



http://www.burmastar.org.uk/epitaph.htm
"When You Go Home, Tell Them Of Us And Say,
For Their Tomorrow, We Gave Our Today"

A very poignant poem in Remembrance of those that did not return home.

For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.


Written by Laurence Binyon