Source: File: Wilfred Owen the boy dressed
as a soldier.jpg. [online] An
original image is Available at: <http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/0/ww1/25407948> [Accessed: 1 January 2016]
Private Wilfred
Edward Salter Owen, 4756
Of the Artists
Rifles, would end the year 1915
In a very
different position - by days end of 21
October, Owen wrote
home - a self-declaration
Of breathy words, that he was the British Army.
Entering a
civilian, departing as a soldier below
The sculptured, contradictory heads of Minerva
And Mars - Art and war - initially a voluntary
Corps devised by
painters as Millais, to entice
Talents such as
John and Paul Nash and poets.
Now Owen was part
of that final volunteer push,
To be ahead of
the Derby Scheme in compulsory
Service - with
the best already part of the army,
The quite good
men were coming through; Owen
Would no longer bear the voices of canvassers.
Dark hair already had shoots of grey at 23 - while
His deep voice, toned from teaching and amateur
Acting, gave an
edge to his youth; along with ability
To aim a gun - all
worked towards likely officer
Status - a
prophecy had been his childhood images.
Such photos were
a foundation of Wilfred's future
Ability, apparantly beyond his mother’s attentions -
Despite prophetic
photographic images of her son,
Dressed as a
childhood soldier with a sword
Or as a sailor,
to face a camera with boat in hand.
Taking control of
his chosen destiny Owen found
Lodgings, in his
assignment to the 2nd Battalion -
Tavistock square
and French speaking house,
Gave him private
security of a recent past - ready
For London based
training, prior to Romford camp.
With oath of loyalty
completed Owen was injected
Against typhoid -
Allowed three days in recovery
He used his time
wisely, to spend time in poetry -
The bookshop on
Devonshire Street, led his path,
Up steps to the
stable loft, in company of readings.
Finally Monday
and Tuesday 24 and 25 October,
Found him amid a
drill of civilian dressed men -
Taught to stand
to attention, turning and marching -
Bored but
entertained Private Owen found humour
In good-natured
drill, to give his respect to NCOs.
Mid week and Owen
looked the part in full kit - all
To be kept in tip
top order - with practice route
Marches up
Highgate, to endless salutes to local
Trees - fully amid
the curious masculine lifestyle,
He leaned the
absurdities of those military ways.
In concentration of
the army's cultural ground,
Any reality was
kept to the back of his mind -
Rather to enjoy
the admiring glances of the old
And youngest of
people - while amusement found
His sternness
caused civilian dressed men to blush.
With the
reasonable hours of 9.30 a.m. to 5 p.m.
A kitted out Owen
made his stir in army boots,
To enter poetry
collective under eyes of the owner,
Harold Monro - as
the soldier bought books of his,
Houseman and
Brooke, to have died early that year.
Summer may have
seemed long lost under time's
Tread - as depths of
autumn took a route of Liverpool
Street Station
led the company east, to Romford
And discomforts
of hut life about Hare Hall - where
An Artists camp ready built close to Colchester Road.
A division was
all too obvious, with men in the huts,
While the officers
resided in the eighteen century
House - challenges deepened as he lodged amid
Groups of men -
each day to begin with exercises
By 6 a.m. in
platoons, out in countryside and park.
Work came in
defence constructions, in usual trench
Type - with attack plans and weapons drill Owen
amid
The tasks role-played as servant or commander -
Learned signaling
and map reading. Taking on duty
As guard over
24 hours - to practice again and again.
Realities and mid
November made another lesson,
That camp life
was tiresome - novelty was overtaken
By poor food,
poor weather, the constant discipline
And endless work
- relationships while matey may
Have become strained in mixing with all types of men.
Brief respite to
past normality came with London,
To see opera and
quiet devotion to poetry - wherein
Experience might
have stirred his slow unconscious
Thoughts - under
the conscious efforts of sonnets;
In hopeful
collections of published Georgian Verse.
As was the way of
military matters, Christmas
Leave was likely
for Owen, but did not happen -
An alternative
came from a family invitation
Whose Boy Scout
son he befriended - followed
By another dinner
in the hut of ready foodstuffs.
Escape came with
Williams’ family till 9.15 p.m. -
While a return to
camp Owen would hear the roars
Coming from the
huts - week’s leave then came
For December's
end - Private Owen at Mahim
Found years end see
him in a very different place.
by Jamie Mann.
Hibberd, D., 2002. Wilfred Owen –
A New Biography. London. Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Ch 10.
Mann, J., 2015. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal
communication, 20 November 2015).
#WW1 #WW1centenary #GreatWar #WW1poem #GreatWar #WW1centenary
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