Remembrance Day: 100 years on


Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori

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34 Responses to Remembrance Day: 100 years on

  1. Singleton Engineer

    Indeed, and appropriate to the day.

  2. calli

    Dear old Grandpa, and Wal, and uncles Frank, George and Ivan, and Philip, the one who never came back and will always be 23.

    Lest We Forget

  3. Jannie

    Greater love hath no man. We will remember them.

  4. Dr Fred Lenin

    My Grandfather was a major in the artillery ,a career soldier who had fought in the Boer war and the NW Frontier of India against Afghans and Pathans, used to tell the odd tale about how absolutely disgusted he was with the leadership in France and the utter waste of lives . As an officer he said it was your duty to preserve tha lives of the men serving under you,not throw them into hopeless situations . His opinion was those generals were politicans not soldiers . He came out of retirment in WW2as commander of a gunery school .Armistice day was a holy day in his house .

  5. Tom

    Lest we forget.

    If we value our civilisation, we’ll have to keep fighting for it again and again. Fascism never sleeps.

  6. RobK

    I will always remember them.

  7. Mak Siccar

    Thanks Grandad, for your service to Australia at Gallipoli and the Western Front, and for surviving the gas and the TB that followed. The horrors that he and his mates must have seen and endured defy our imagination. Rest In Peace.

  8. Myrddin Seren

    Wilfred Owen

    Owen was killed in action on 4 November 1918 during the crossing of the Sambre–Oise Canal, exactly one week (almost to the hour) before the signing of the Armistice which ended the war, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant the day after his death.

    His mother received the telegram informing her of his death on Armistice Day, as the church bells in Shrewsbury were ringing out in celebration.

    Terrible poignancy. Encapsulates the loss of a generation.

    Owen got a mention in this week’s episode of the Great War.

    Revolution in Germany – Armistice in Austria I THE GREAT WAR Week 224

    Highly recommended viewing. Next week’s episode should be sobering viewing too.

  9. Muddy

    How dare we even face those names, chiselled in stone, when we have closed our eyes and shunned their legacy by permitting what they fought for to be so devalued and defiled?
    Yet we face those names without even a hint of shame, and lower our gaze for a token moment as though we deserve to call ourselves their descendants.
    I for one, feel unworthy.

  10. 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.

    Robert Laurence Binyon

  11. Pedro the Ignorant

    100 years ago today the guns fell silent in “The War to End All Wars”.

    Australia back then had a population of five million, and from that tiny population, 416,809 men enlisted, 60,000 were killed in action and 156,000 were wounded or taken prisoner.

    Every city, town and village in Australia was affected by the terrible loss of the cream of our youth.

    God bless them all, those brave young men.

    Forever honoured and remembered.

  12. Zulu Kilo Two Alpha

    60,000 were killed in action and 156,000 were wounded or taken prisoner.

    And every single one of them volunteered for overseas service.

  13. max

    “60,000 were killed in action and 156,000 were wounded or taken prisoner.

    And every single one of them volunteered for overseas service.”

    “God bless them all, those brave young men.
    Forever honored and remembered.”

    yes we should, because some one lied to them.

    question is:
    What did they die for?

  14. Roger

    Remembering great, great uncles among others.

    Lest we forget.

    And rather Binyon than Owen on this day, Sinc.

  15. Bruce of Newcastle

    Our church service is at 11am of a Sunday. There were a couple hundred people around the war memorial I passed on the way.

    Remembering those young men who gave their lives for us one hundred years ago is a fitting thing on a Sunday, when we remember the life of Jesus the Christ given for us nearly two thousand years ago.

    Rest well my brothers in Christ who gave all in a theatre of war 1914-18.

  16. dopey

    There was a small ceremony in Foley Park, Glebe. Starts off “we are standing today on the lands of the something or other peoples..” That was enough for me thanks.

  17. What did they die for?

    According to one of my great grandmothers, her sons died for duty, honour, God and King.

    Any fscker who tries to put 21st century perspectives on an early 20th century world, really needs to STFU.

  18. Gary peacock

    Great uncles Jack and Frank and my great grandfather Henry
    Lest we forget

  19. hzhousewife

    Remembering with gratefulness the English Grandpa I never met, gassed in France in 1916 and repatriated to London in time to become father to my mother in February 1918. He was increasingly bedridden and unable to work at his trade of carpenter, instead making decorative items at home – bread bins, jewelry boxes and the like.
    My Australian GreatUncle who served was an Army administrater, keeping the books straight in London and not able to get back to Aust till 1920, there being inordinate amounts of records to record. He ultimately continued on to become an Australian Trade Commissioner, retiring to Florida where I met him in 1981 or so, eucalyptus tree his pride in the front yard. Learning shorthand and typing as a fouteen year old saved him from the mud.
    God Bless them all.

  20. Aussieute

    They Shall Not Grow Old

  21. MPH

    My view is if you haven’t fought for your country (my situation) then the best you can do is make it a country worth fighting for. Can’t help feeling we who remain are falling further and further behind on that.

  22. Zulu Kilo Two Alpha

    To the bogan who roared past the local war memorial, in his “hotted up” black ute, during the minutes silence – local cops advise your vehicle is on their computer as “a vehicle of interest.”

  23. manalive

    This website has a wealth of Great War information and visual images, some not pretty.

  24. JC


    Explain what is the purpose of posting that ridiculous tweet here? What does it serve other than perverse attempt at self aggrandizement? Fucking weirdo.

  25. Mark from Melbourne

    We had a lovely remembrance in our local park. All driven by locals, no pettifogging bureaucrats involved at all.

    Brief ceremony, followed by the mandatory sausage sizzle (if I ever caramelize an onion again it will be too soon!).

    Highlighted by an overflight of two biplanes right on 11AM. OK, so they were actually circling to overfly the Shrine, but it worked for us…

  26. Dan Dare

    JC, get over your Zulu Derangment Syndrome.
    He is offended, as I would be, if that occurred where I was as I today thought of my father who will not grow old as I have.
    Lest we forget.

  27. JC


    There’s nothing to get over.

    1. You can’t ever believe what the fucking idiot says.

    2. Offended? Like leftoids are offended? That sort of offended? Every day, the moron is posting these sorts of sideline stories that are either a form of virtue signaling or making himself sound really important like. I wish he’d just fuck off.

  28. stackja

    FIFO sounding important?

  29. Viva

    My grandfather Robert Furlonger, London Regiment, died July 1918.


  30. Dan Dare

    Wrong day JC
    Keep it on another thread.

  31. JC

    Tell him, not me.

    I’m with you actually. I don’t the prick ruining this thread either.

  32. JC

    Here’s my story on remembrance day, Dan. My father told me this, as I never met my grandfather.

    In WW1 my GF (grandfather, not girlfriend) was sent to fight the Austrians in the Italian the campaign. It was a slaughter, with the Austrians occupying the high ground and the Italian troops having to climb the alps, thereby turning it into a turkey shoot. They kept on re-forming platoons and companies because the kill rate was something like 90%. The Italians were pushed back all the way to the place called Caporetto, which made famous because of the standoff there. It was basically hand to hand combat and my GF bayoneted this poor young Austrian kid and killed him. He often told my father he would never forget this kid who was about his age- a kid. He often talked about him with tears streaming down his eyes.

    Here’s my remembrance. I remember my GF whom I never met and also the innocent Austrian kid..

  33. Dan Dare

    Sad story JC.
    A late reply but mine is my father who remains forever somewhere in New Guinea.
    Lost on the Kokoda Trail.

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