Saturday, 21 November 2015

Poem ~ Owen: Teacher to Soldier - Sunday 21 - Tuesday 30 November 1915

Impression sketch of a smiling Private Wilfred Owen - by Jamie. see an original at: http://www.standpointmag.co.uk/node/5483/full

i
By the river Garonne, of South West
France, Bordeaux had seen itself
As the temporary sister of Paris -
In an invasion threat of the capital.

With issue abated, matters turned
Back to ordinary status - with seat
Of Government back in Paris, some
Normality returned to Bordeaux.

One British resident to experience
That excitement, settled back into
A routine as English tutor - yet matters
For Mr W. Owen altered with spring.

While settled within his pre-war post,
Issues of war, and an idea to fight,
Were never far from his mind's eye -
Everywhere talk, papers and soldiers.

ii
Idling plans continued in thoughts
Of his own situation - and somehow
What he might do for the war's fight;
Those about tried to dissuade ideas.

With a six week plan set to take him
Back to Britain and London’s heart -
A pivotal centre of the war machine,
Owen suppressed such excitement.

Yet countered by sensibility, a need
To earn money, he promised to return
Within the summer months to carry
On his duty as professor of elocution.

From Bordeaux, a slow journey took
Wilfred first to Paris, where he met
With Tailhade - poet and friend -
To take in Parisian sights and scenes.

iii
Yet doubtless to see movements
Of endless soldiers, both English
And French nations pass, always
Onwards to some fighting frontiers.

This intensity of sights for Wilfred
Owen increased on reaching Calais,
With its boundless military nature
Of troop ships, in and out of harbour.

Likely self conscious of his civilian
Attire, Owen probably brooded,
Within the encircling men of his age,
Who filled all boats and London trains.

Owen's Arrival in a British capital,
Would bring an alternative scene
Of previous visits - in atmosphere
In London's life of wartime fixation.

iV
Papers daily added with fresh
News - to include May-times
Sinking of the Lusitania; while
Nothing dulled his enjoyment.

Taking his task as trader to perfume
Fair - Kitchener posters all around,
Questioned his reason or excuse,
Why Owen was not yet in khaki.

Thrilled but  briefly tired of London
Bustle, the son made his return
To Shreswbuy's Mahim - to allow
A temporary escape to poetry.

In whirl of satisfied travel a poet
Paused again in London, where
A hotel note sparked a thought, to
Invite gentlemen to Artists Rifles.

V
Owen speculated over ambitions,
To see London slums in Victorian
Hangovers - to ponder on desires
For success as a possible poet.

Still remaining without decision
To join the tutor, as promised made
The Sunday return trip to Paris;
With mixed emotions after London.

New stories came of campaigns
In Gallipoli prompting Owen's vow;
If war had no sight of improvement
To take to an autumn enlistment.

Home communications reached him
Of a relative in khaki - to prompt
A premonition of grandchildren, 
Who would ask what he had done.

Vi
Aged 21 with almost a year of war,
A summer illness of June crept
Hold of Owen, to prompt his fitness
Vow - a need of a soldier's regime.

A mother's distant concerns could
Not deter a son of independence -
To give her unwillingness to provide           
His requests of regiment's address.

His decision was to write anyway
To Artists Rifles, posted to a vague
London Address - duly a reply
Came to advise of lengthy training.

Although aspirations may have
Been to take a commission, Owen
Had no means - so then initially
He would start as ordinary Tommy.

Romantic notions were never far
From such a poet's head - maybe
An alternative route could allow him
To join the Italian Cavalry instead.

Vii
From his letter's honesty, Susan
Owen advised how her son might
Find more satisfaction in a position
Of safety, within a war office post.

With brief encounter of a sailor
Whose familiar accent of home,
Prompted Owen to ask passage -
In war such ideas were impossible.

Self-guilt grew in civilian clothes -
In summers depth came more plans,
For routes to take him homewards;
Concerns of friends advised him no.

Summer of 1915 then on the wane
And Owen had completed promise
To teach his students - now his plan
Took over, to make a London return.

Viii
Shrewsbury and autumn's falling
Dead leaves, acting as a reality
Of what he should be his destiny;
Led him to London’s Bloomsbury.

On a pause of steps in the shade
Of Artists Rifle Headquarters, two
Masks looked bleakly down on him
While Wilfred Owen stepped inside.

A keen, willing Doctor passed him
As fit, while Owen gave happily
Provided his word of willingness;
As the fight for Loos had begun.

With long shrugged off hesitancy, his
Joining up could only provide relief
To take vow of voluntary service -
That soon would become compulsory.

iX
For a man and poet, prepared
To give himself to a voluntary vow,
Was more a true romantic notion
Than hesitating, only to be pushed.

Arriving at that point Owen set
On a four year path in duty to king
To shrug off unglamorous ideas,
As a man working in munitions.

Previous paths had been diverse
Such as journalism, civil service,
The ministry or even a scientist
Or interpreter; he became a tutor.

Other potential careers had even
Included business traveller or
Consular role,  no prior thoughts
Had seen him in role of a soldier.

Neither man nor Doctor registered
Any omens, wherein his previous
Medical had not been signed off -
Owen stripped again, to be found fit.

At 5 foot 5, a height that had once
Been unacceptable Owen was taken
On, having a fit heart with 6/6 vision,
He stood with a chest of 36 1/2 inches.

X
The deed was finally completed, when
On Thursday 21 October 1915, saw
Three men to step forward to swear
Allegiance, to serve home and abroad.

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen stood
Before an officer, Captain Bloomfied,
To read out the oath and give a virgin
Bible, a considered and loving kiss.

Romance takes many forms - equal
To poets of old who might describe
Notions of duty, man's honour, pride
Or passion to die for one's country.

At moments when in life bold steps
Take a different unforeseen path,
Excitement might rule ignorance -
A man emerged; Private Owen 4756.

by Jamie Mann.

Hibberd, D., 2002. Wilfred Owen – A New Biography. London. Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Ch 9, Ch 10.

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 20 November 2015). 


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Friday, 20 November 2015

Poem ~ A Song of Trauma - Saturday 20 November 1915


Video of song sung by Sergeant Wells.

During Canadian actions in Flanders,
A wounded Sergeant Wells, lay on
The battlefield - captured then taken
To a German field dressing station.

Sergeant Wells felt himself fortunate,
To meet there a considerate young
Officer - the German told the sergeant
Of his belief; Canadians were brave.

Thanking him Sergeant Wells was
Moved - under this young officer's
Order, to be escorted away from gas,
In an ambulance to a place of safety.

Uses of gas for this German, had
No place in warfare, feeling secure
The sergeant's fate changed, once
Out of sight the ambulance stopped.

Ordered out, his escorts prodded
Him with bayonets - to tell Wells
'Walk you Canadian pig,' which
He did - finally he reached Roulers.

The wound on his arm being very
Bad, it was decided to amputate -
With his heart weakened by gas,
He could not be given chloroform.

The Doctor took up a saw - beside
Him a Belgian nun held his hand,
To distract him as the cut was made.
She asked him what he might sing.

The little nun suggested 'God be
With you till we meet again.'
So Sergeant Wells sang out the
Hymn loudly, from chorus to verse.

Then again, until the job was done.
Time came with prisoner exchange, 
Of men no longer of use as soldiers;
In 4 months to leave Saxony camp.

A report came from Central news,
Montreal, to tell how Sergeant Wells
Had arrived in Vancouver, where
he spoke about the nun's journey.

Based in, the Danish West Indies
Then onwards to New York, this
Small nun wrote to his mother,
Telling of her son's sung survival.

by Jamie Mann.

Anon.,1915. Plucky Canadian - Sings During Amputation. The Daily Telegraph, [online] 20 November. P.6. Col.3. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994444/Daily-Telegraph-November-20-1915.html [Accessed: 20 November 2015].

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 20 November 2015). 



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Lyrics of 'God Be With You Till We Meet Again.' By Jeremiah E. Rankin, 1880

  1. 1. God be with you till we meet again;
By his counsels guide, uphold you;
With his sheep securely fold you.
God be with you till we meet again.

  1. (Chorus)
Till we meet, till we meet,
Till we meet at Jesus' feet,
Till we meet, till we meet,
God be with you till we meet again.

  1. 2. God be with you till we meet again;
When life's perils thick confound you,
Put his arms unfailing round you.
God be with you till we meet again.

  1. 3. God be with you till we meet again;
Keep love's banner floating o'er you;
Smite death's threat'ning wave before you.
God be with you till we meet again.

Thursday, 19 November 2015

Poem ~ A Book For The Boys - Friday 19 November 1915

Source: File: The Soldier's Pocket Companion.jpeg, [online] On original image can be seen at: <http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6575968.Reginald_Brabazon> [Accessed: 19 November 2015].

With another Christmas to come,
Before any sign of a war's end,
Are practical ideal gifts to send
To every soldier based at the front.

A philanthropist editor aged 74,
The 12th Earl of Meath, whose
Name was Reginald Barbizon,
Compiled a new companion.

Described as a 'Wide Range
For the Man on Active Service,'
A Soldier's Pocket Companion,
Was 6 1/2 by 3 1/2 inches.

Wisely made with waterproofed
Binding and rounded corners.
With pictures at 160 pages 
Quality came at price of 1s net, 

Filled with useful items to cover
A soldier’s needs; by vocabulary
Of French and English-German,
Along with Aviation terminology.

Sections would cover important
Topics, to be mechanical transport,
Uses of compas and telephones
In the field - and a potted history.

Subjects to be causes of war, and
A survey of the British Empire -
Along with Europe since 1870 -
All to bolster English allegiance.

Practical, to give a background
As to facts and matters that led
Britain into fighting across fronts -
Topped off by regimental notes.

Not to forget, that this useful
Little book's origins - of church
Army - would eagerly include
A letter from Bishop of London.

No hint then, of any fun contents.

by Jamie Mann.

Anon.,1915. Advert - The Soldiers Pocket Companion. The Daily Telegraph, [online] 19 November. P.4. Col.6-7. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994411/Daily-Telegraph-November-19-1915.html  [Accessed: 19 November 2015].

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 19 November 2015). 



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Wednesday, 18 November 2015

Poem ~ A Boy's Revenge - Thursday 18 November 1915

Impression sketch of A Boy's Revenge - by Jamie.

Conveyed by a writer, Gregori Pateroff,
A story from the Russian Weekly -
Russkoye Slovo - told of a young boy
Aged 12 and his deception of enemy.

At a certain point of the enemy flanks,
One Cossack patrol had managed
To break through, only to come across
A peasant boy, hidden amid grasses.

Unconscious, the boy's breathing was
Almost undetectable - a Cossack took
Him on his horse to safety of a camp -
With attention the boy came conscious.

With eyes described as a feverish fire,
He gave account of what happened 
To him - speaking in breathless words
To tell how he encountered Germans.

The Cossacks asked how this came
About, thinking that he had wandered
Lost - the last time had been Saturday
When a party of Germans appeared.

The boy had remained on purpose
At his village alone, everyone else
Had fled - He remained with intentions.
He explained to the Russian soldiers.

Having no fear, as he knew the place
Well - with good supplies of food there.
As Germans appeared he met them;
The latest being his fifth soldier's patrol.

They insisted on his help to take them
About the village, prompting him forth.
So the peasant boy led them across
A Marsh - knowing each path was vital.

Dangers of watering off a route would
Lead to tragedy - small and light the boy
Had a stick to skip across grass clumps;
There in the marshes he led them astray.

This was the fifth patrol he drowned;
Stout heavy Germans began to sink
Down and screamed at him, close
To the trees where mud was worse.

Sinking men took fire, as he laughed.
Amid the trees he watched them sink,
But wounded he remained there from
Saturday to Tuesday, to fall very weak.

The Cossacks listened with close intent,
As one called him a wolf-cub - to which
He then asked, what were those men
Who had abused his mother to death?

He had vowed to her of taking revenge,
This he would do as a boy - not waiting
To become a man - the boy's intent eyes
Burned their promise at the Cossacks.

His mother had died, so should they
meet death - he would lead many more
Germans to drown them - But as slow
Evening fell, the boy slowly, quietly died.

by Jamie Mann.

Anon.,1915. Peasants Boy's Exploits - Germans Lured to Death. The Daily Telegraph, [online] 18 November. P.11. Col.1. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994353/Daily-Telegraph-November-18-1915.html [Accessed: 18 November 2015].

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 18 November 2015). 


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Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Poem ~ Kitting Out The Officer - Wednesday 17 November 1915



Source: File: Adverts Military Outfitters, Hazel - Moss Bros & Co Military Tailors - Officer's Field Kit.jpeg, [online] Available at: <http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994327/Daily-Telegraph-November-17-1915.html> [Accessed: 17 November 2015].

Differences of rank extended
To fact of uniform quality -
While general infantry were
Provided with issued war kit,
The officers, usually the gentry,
Were expected to buy their own.

In these ways of hierarchy,
Having money and a tailor
Was the way to go to the front.
If new to the game or unsure,
Advertisements in the press
Could guide a gentleman officer.

Established businesses could
Provide all that was needed -
As from Hazel bring founded
A hundred years before, 1815 -
Having just spent a century
Building reputation of quality.

Based in Glasgow, Leeds and
London an established officer,
Of newly commissioned could
Find amid 300 retail agents,
That would supply Hazel kits;
At £25 to get a complete outfit.

While reputation already built
On dependable goods, another
Competitor made an appeal,
To those wishing to save time
For leave, from Moss Bros -
Advertised as Military Tailors.

While younger in tailoring,
Since only 1851, Moss Bros.,
Could have offered every item
Under a single roof; a London
Based uniform maker  - even
Before the hostilities of 1914.

Their strength was stated as
Suppliers of good equipment
More than any other firm -
To provide needs of prismatic
Compasses and binoculars;
Giving towns biggest selection.

With time being of essence,
Any officer new or on leave,
Could be equipped within
30 minutes at Moss Bros -
To offer a different shade
Of khaki in the one basic cut.

Within the same column,
Advert is offered final need,
In an officer's field kit bag,
From S. Goff and Co - within
A 5-buckled holdall, is held
Ground sheet and pillow.

Furthermore is a bucket,
Bath wash-stand, chair
And bed - which pictures
A notable claim - to provide
Such needs for the officer,
To be all ready for the front.

by Jamie Mann.

Anon.,1915. Adverts Military Outfitters, Hazel - Moss Bros & Co Military Tailors - Officer's Field Kit. The Daily Telegraph, [online] 17 November. P.5. Col.3. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994327/Daily-Telegraph-November-17-1915.html [Accessed: 17 November 2015].

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 17 November 2015). 



#WW1 #WW1centenary #GreatWar #WW1poem #GreatWar #WW1centenary #worldwarone #worldwaroneremembered #WW1Officers

Monday, 16 November 2015

Poem ~ Joan of Arc: Reborn at Loos - Tuesday 16 November 1915

Source: File: Émilienne Moreau.jpeg, [online] Available at: <http://bestteenagersever.com/tag/croix-de-guerre/> [Accessed: 16 November 2015].

Northern France 1898, within the region
Of Lens, a daughter was born to a miner
And his wife - the Moreau’s gave chosen
Name Émilienne, to live in peace till 1914.

By his daughter's age of 16, m'sieur Moreau
Retired to open a grocery store in one coal
Mining town, Loos-en-Gohelle close to Lens;
Young Émilienne yearned to be a teacher.

Two months from her sixteenth birthday,
Émilienne gave witness to an invasion
Of her country - under waves of Germans,
Whose presence held Loos-en-Gohelle

The seized village billeted enemy soldiers -
Then as winter took hold by December,
Émilienne's father passed away - this girl
Determined to carry on, set up a school.

By February 1915 many local children
Met in a basement, taught by Émilienne -
For over six months a strange normality
Continued, until September's new invasion.

With the village men long gone to fight,
Loos-en-Gohelle was just another small
Village turned into a German fort - roads
Were crisscrossed by wire emplacements.

Life for the people continued in the cellars,
While ground above had become earthen
Works, as trench systems cut the graveyard;
Tombs became machine gun emplacements.

From the battle of Artois, came the offence
On Loos - German belief of their stronghold,
Loos-en-Gohelle, would not be broken by
Any type of attack - yet British soldiers came.

The allied artillery began intentions to cut
The wire, only to fail - still the British moved,
Advancing over open fields - the high toll
Of loss was no deterrent for British forces.

In the west side of Loos-en-Gohelle,
Émilienne Moreau held shelter amid
Many other frightened villagers, caught
Under bombardment of 24 September.

In such circumstances deeds can often
Emerge for no reason, but raw survival -
Seventeen, Émilienne Moreau perhaps
In need to do something, left her shelter.

Encased in a place no longer home,
Came crash of battle - made by cutting
Bullets smashing walls of buildings -
Cracking tiles as masonry crumbled.

An old woman had moaned inside, how
The end was coming - not death but the
Allied liberation - Émilienne's knowledge
Of the locality meant she could assist.

She ran swiftly - lucky to dodge bullets,
As she came upon the stunned looks
Of strange skirted highlanders - 'miss,
You should not be here' - 'I can help.'

In hurried information Émilienne
Told them of the German made fort -
They followed her instructions fully,
In beating down the enemy presence.

At the sight of Scottish casualties,
Émilienne gave assistance, to make
A first aid post with a Scot's Doctor -
Together in the cellar of her home.

Outside, the battle waned and raged -
More wounded were carried down.
Movements came and went - into this
Cellar news arrived of renewed fight.

The ground and house above rocked.
Highlanders came to say Germans
Had moved into the neighbouring
House, with one Scotsman trapped.

, thought - she took a handgun
Of a wounded man along with grenades.
She knew the house next door - despite
Protests soldiers followed her moves.

Behind this girl the men followed -
Émilienne saw the man trapped
In a corner - three Germans fired
At him from the broken kitchen.

Taking a grenade she threw it hard,
And then another - the Germans were
killed outright - Émilienne actions gave
The soldier's safety back with friends.

Again in the cellar Émilienne, along
With the Doctor, renewed their care -
From the cellar post, the able bodied
With fighting moving they had to go.

The door closed they were left alone -
Some quiet fell eerily outside in a lull
The doctor said he needed to fetch
Supplies, to leave her with wounded.

Groaning sounds of men in thirst
Asked for water - Émilienne sought
To needs, when one of them alerted
Her to sounds outside, of voices.

'Miss, Miss listen! Outside are Hun.'
As they tried to quieten the men,
Émilienne listened, to follow sounds
Outside, edging closer to the door.

With instinct she held her breath
She recalled the gun in her pocket.
Holding the revolver, she traced
The low voices closing to the door.

As the door handle moved she fired -
A thud followed by a yell  - another
Attempt at the door  - Émilienne
Fired - a dead German tumbled in.

"Vive Ia Emilienne Moreau!' the call
For a girl of seventeen made by crowd,
As General de Sailly decorated Croix
Du Combattant, of the French army.

With title Joan of Arc of the North,
Given by a British Officer, Emilienne
Was cited in the Order of the Day,
16 November, to great admiration.

by Jamie Mann.

Anon.,1915. Brave French Girl - 'Joan of Arc of the North'. The Daily Telegraph, [online] 16 November. P.4. Col.4. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11994304/Daily-Telegraph-November-16-1915.html [Accessed: 16 November 2015].

Source: File: Émilienne Moreau-Evrard From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. online Available at: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89milienne_Moreau-Evrard> Accessed 16 November 2015

Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal communication, 16 November 2015). 



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