The Lockheed P-38 Lightning
Was
a World War II
American
fighter aircraft
With
distinctive twin booms
And
one central nacelle,
Housing
the cockpit
The
P38 was nicknamed
The
"fork-tailed devil"
By
Luftwaffe Pilots
It
was the very definition
Of
versatility in fact it had it all
And
was in the thick of it
From
Pearl Harbour
To
Victory over Japan Day
St Crispin’s day has been
A
bloody day in history
Famous
for being a day
When
battles were fought
High
in the cost of life
Among
these, in 1861
The
first Battle of Springfield
Was
an early battle
Of
the American Civil War
Between
Union and
Confederate
forces
In
Springfield, Missouri
When soldiers stand neath flags unfurled
Before
going to war to do the biz
Be
sure before they’re sent to save the world
They
re happy with the world the way it is
I miss the place
Where
I journeyed into this world
Where
a loving mother
Kissed
me and gently brushed my curls
I
miss the place
Where
mother taught me the joys of life
And
my father
Taught
me to seek harmony from strife
I
miss the place
Where
my school days first began
And
those friends
That
made up our inseparable band
I
miss the place
Where
my heart had an optimistic view
And
I miss the face
Of
my one and only love so true
I
miss the place
Where
summer days seemed without end
Where
natures bounty
Spilled
from the fields we had to tend
I
miss the place
Where
the bones of my parents lay
And
the times
When
our days were full with play
I
miss the place
I
knew before I grew into a man
And
took up arms
To
fight for the king in a foreign land
I
miss the place
That
is the home I shall never see again
Never
smell the grasses green
Or
taste those gentle summer rains
I
miss that place
My
distant home far across the sea
The
place I left behind
So
I could die fighting for the free
In the month of January
Of
the year eighteen seventy nine
Lord
Chelmsford,
The
General Officer Commanding the British forces
Without
the sanction of the British Government
By
crossing over the great Buffalo River
Invaded
KwaZulu,
In
Southern Africa
The
British entered the Sovereign Kingdom
In
response, the fiercely independent AmaZulu people
Mobilized
their armies against the invaders
Chelmsford,
ignoring intelligence received
Arrogantly
committed a fatal error and split his force
With
the result that on the 22nd of January
A
British force, seventeen hundred strong,
Was
attacked by King Cetshwayo’s Impi’s
At
a place called Isandhlwana
An
isolated hill in Zululand
The
British force encamped at the foot of the hill was attacked
By
an army of about 10,000 Zulus,
The
flower of Cetshwayo’s warriors
And
destroyed The British
Who
were quickly overwhelmed and routed
In the mayhem the camp was lost
The British tried to hold together
But any kind of discipline among the British and
colonial ranks
Was lost along with the camp
As the remnants retreated before the superior force
Lieutenant’s Melvill and Coghill
Tried in vain to save the queens color
But when there horses were shot from under them
They were hacked to death by their pursuers
The
few hundred who survived the battle
Had
to fight a running battle with the Zulu
Skirmishing
for there lives with blood thirsty warriors
Who
did not take prisoners
During
the retreat Private Samuel Wassall,
Of
the eightieth regiment
Stopped
to save a drowning soldier from the Buffalo River
He
dismounted his horse and left it on the Zulu side
And
swam out to rescue his comrade
Dragging
him to safety under a hail of gunfire
Thirteen
hundred soldiers died
Both
British and natal native contingent
Their
corpses all mutilated by the victors
In
the aftermath of their great victory
It
was the heaviest defeat ever inflicted
By
a native force on an organized army
Encouraged
by the momentous events at Isandhlwana
Cetshwayo’s
brother, Dabulamanzi took his impi
The
four and a half thousand strong undi corps
Intending
to cross the buffalo river
And
take his warriors into natal
But
first he wanted to crush the meager British force
That
remained at the small supply post
Eight
miles North West of Isandhlwana
Close
to the buffalo river crossing
The
post was known to the British as Rorke's Drift,
Which
the AmaZulu called KwaJimu
The
post had formally been a trading store and a mission station
This
consisted of a house and a chapel
And
some dilapidated out buildings
The
house was being used as a field hospital
While
the chapel was the quartermasters store
Not
much of a target
Of
such little value
Not
much of a prize for the Zulu
Of
no strategic value
Not
much honor to be had
In
crushing such a small force
Not
much of a victory to be had
Outnumbering
the British forty to one
Hardly
a fair fight
Not
much worthy of defending by the British
Why
did they stand?
Not
much of a command
Some
one hundred and fifty men
Though
only 104 men were fit enough to fight
The
men at Rorke’s drift had been warned
By
retreating survivors of Isandhlwana
That
the Zulu were coming
But
they stayed anyway
Only
one survivor of the defeat at Isandhlwana
Stayed
to help defend
Rorke’s drift
A Lieutenant James Adendorff of the NNC
Left
in overall command of the post
Was
Lieutenant Chard of the Royal Engineers
And,
commanding a company-strength
Was
Lieutenant Bromhead of the 24th Regiment of foot
But
it was a volunteer, acting assistant commissary
James
Dalton, a former Staff Sergeant,
With
some twenty two years military experience
Who
took control of the defenses
He
ordered the construction of barricades
Connecting
the two buildings with sacks of corn,
And
an inner barricade with biscuit boxes
And
determined the position of a redoubt
Where
they would make their final stand
Dalton
kept the men well occupied
Giving
them little time to dwell on the situation
Or
contemplate the impending assault
They
heard the approaching Impi’s
Long
before they could see them
The
sound was like that of distant thunder in the hills
Drawing
ever close and louder
Then
a brief silence, very brief
When
the fearsome Zulus finally attacked,
Wielding
their short stabbing assegais,
They
were unable to reach the soldiers
Who
from behind the barricades blasted the Zulu warriors
With
rifle fire at point blank range
Undaunted
the Zulu kept coming
Wave
upon wave, Charge upon charge
Eventually
by sheer weight of numbers
They
began swarming up the barricades
But
Most of those who did mount the breastwork
Were
repulsed by the bayonets of the defenders
Many
of the Zulus were armed with rifles,
Some
Taken from the dead at Isandhlwana
But
many were obtained from Boer traders
Although
they were older than the army issue Henri-Martini
Rifles
they were
And
a bullet from an old weapon kills just as efficiently
As
from a new one
They
took advantage of the high ground
And
were able to pin down the gallant defenders
Again
Wave upon wave of warriors charged the defenses
And
again and again they were repulsed
Then
After numerous unsuccessful attacks
And
with many Zulu dead the attackers withdrew
But
only to regroup and not for long
There
was barely time to repair the walls
And
take a much needed drink when they came again
Each
attack varied slightly concentrating on different points
Probing
for weaknesses
But
again the redcoats held firm
By
late afternoon they turned there full attention on the hospital
Where
with four other men the Privates, Robert and William Jones,
Defended
with valor the hospital door at bayonet point
Unable
to break though the redoubtable Privates defense
The
attackers set fire to the hospital’s roof,
And
broke in through the burning thatch
The
savage warriors began to spear the patients,
Mercilessly
killing the sick and the lame
A
private named Alfred Hook,
A
Gloucestershire man,
Kept
them at bay with his bayonet while his comrade
Private
John Williams hacked holes in the wall
That
separated one room from another
Then
he dragged the patients through one by one
Once
they had made there escape to the adjoining room
Hook
continued to fight off the Zulu’s
As
the patients were bundled out the window
The
last man had dislocated his knee.
Williams
had to break the other one
To
get him through the window
Before
the burning roof finally fell in
Once
through the window and into the yard
The
barricades offered them some protection.
The
Fighting went on all night in the fitful glare
From
the blazing hospital
As
the Zulus made charge after charge on the barricades.
Both
sides fought with desperate courage.
A
patient from the hospital,
A
Swiss born adventurer Christian Schiess,
A
corporal of the Natal Native Contingent
Stabbed
three Zulus in quick succession after clambering over the breastwork
In
the yard Surgeon General Reynolds
Tended
to the wounded, seemingly oblivious
To
the life and death struggle going on all around him
Those
too badly hurt to shoot propped themselves up
And
reloaded the guns for those who were still on their feet.
Private
hitch and Corporal Allan although wounded
Dragged
ammunition around to the men on the barricades
In
between engagements work continued rebuilding barricades
And
constructing the redoubt, for the final stand
When
the time came to form up on the redoubt
Each
row fired there volley in turn
Then
reload and await the command to fire
Then
each in there turns fired another volley
Then
reload and await the command to fire
Then
another and another
Then
reload and await the command to fire
Volley
after deafening volley
Until
the Zulu stopped coming
When
the last echo faded all around were Zulu dead
Heaped
upon each other
When
dawn came at last, the Zulus withdrew
Taking
their wounded with them and leaving the dead where they fell
Around
the barricades
Not
because they could not crush the meager British resistance
The
defenders were desperately short of ammunition
And
exhausted from the long battle
They
could not have held out much longer
Despite
the heroic stand against overwhelming opposition
It
was Lord Chelmsford’s arrival on the scene
With
a fresh column of British Soldiers
That
finally tipped the balance
In
the aftermath of that January day
A
terrible revenge was exacted against the Zulu nation
Chelmsford
on the Mahlabatini plains
Comprehensively
defeated Cetywayo’s
Twenty thousand strong Impi’s
Then after the battle Ulundi Cetywayo’s royal kraal was burned
The
Zulu have never again been one nation
However
for the defenders of the drift
The
highest honors where bestowed
Gunner John Cantwell
Private William Roy
Colour-sergeant frank Bourne
Second corporal Francis Attwood
And Private Michael McMahon
All
received Distinguished Conduct Medal’s
While
Victoria crosses were awarded to
Lieutenant, John Rouse Merriott Chard
Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead
Acting assistant commissary James Langley Dalton
Corporal William Wilson Allen
Private Frederick Hitch
Private Alfred Henry hook
Private Robert Jones
Private William Jones
Surgeon General James Henry Reynolds
Corporal Ferdnand Christian Schiess
Private John Williams,
In
addition for his gallantry at Isandhlwana
A
VC for Private Samuel Wassall
For
selflessly putting his life at risk to save a fallen comrade
At
the time posthumous medals where not given
So
it wasn’t until 1907
When
for attempting to save the queens color
From the field at Isandhlwana
Lieutenant Teignmouth Melvill
And Lieutenant Neville Josiah Aylmer Coghill
Were
finally honored for their courageous act
When
they were awarded the Victoria Cross
For
valor
In
these changing days
It
not PC to have military heroes
You
will be told of Rorke’s drift
How
the honors were not earned
You
will hear things belittling the efforts of the defenders
The
medals were awarded only to save face
To
put a positive spin on the days events
Don’t
listen to them
Don’t
let them blacken the memories of our heroes
They
could have abandoned the post,
They
chose to stand
They
could have fled to natal
They
chose to stay
A
courageous act by courageous men
Remember
them with pride
I remember
Those
with no future, But only a gallant past
I
remember
Those
who never lived, To enjoy the fruits of their sacrifice
I
remember
Those
who will be forever young, Those who will never be old
I
remember
When
the sun sets on their past, And rises brilliantly for our future
I
remember
Father’s,
sons and brothers, Husband’s, friends and lovers
I
remember
That
lost generation of men, Who went to war for our tomorrow
I
remember
Poor
man, gentleman and scholar, Who stood shoulder to shoulder
I
remember
Those
who fell before the foe, For a future they wouldn’t know
“The Small Back Room” is a World War II drama, Written and Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, from the Novel’s by Nigel Balchin.
The film is sometimes known as Hour of Glory and
tells the story of bomb disposal during World War II and is in essence a tale
of redemption.
The Germans have begun to drop a new terror weapon,
explosive booby-traps, and Sammy Rice (David Farrar) is tasked with learning
how to disarm the deadly devices, along with Capt. Dick Stuart
(Michael Gough), but first they have to get their hands on one intact.
Sammy also has to beat his private battle with
alcohol, his form of self medication due to the loss of one of his feet.
In addition there is his relationship with Susan
(Kathleen Byron) which is sexually charged, but heart achingly poignant.
It’s a superbly mounted drama dripping with realism
and infused with atmospheric black and white photography.
Co stars Jack Hawkins, Leslie Banks, Cyril Cusack, Milton Rosmer, Robert Morley
and Sidney James help to make this terribly underrated movie.
Soldiers stand in contemplation
Young
faces etched in concentration
NCO’s
keep them holding steady
A
mounted officer comes prancing
Upon
his steed nervously dancing
Then
comes the order to be ready
Nervously
awaiting engagement
Standing
firm for the regiment
Then
artillery is exchanged
Just
stand fast and hold the line
Just
do that lads and all is fine
Then
the bugles tune is changed
The
air fills with acrid smoke
And
men must stand and choke
After
the muskets flash
Across
the open ground
The
heavy horse’s pound
And
then the sabres clash
The
lancers Bodies tumble
As
the legs of horses crumple
And
lie on the battleground
Wounded
cut and bleeding
Their
Precious life receding
The
lucky die without a sound
Remember
the fallen brothers
Dying
for you and others
Remember
the forgotten
On
foreign fields they lay
Buried
deep beneath the clay
Remember
the forgotten
Remember
the forgotten
Beneath
the earth and rotten
They’re
heroes one and all
So
tell the valiant story
Let
us remember them in glory
For
those who stand and fall
On the horizon the eastern sky was lightening
But
the over cast skies were not brightening
The
dawn had little effect on the Grey sky
It
was certainly a miserable morning to die
The
sounds of the long range guns was absent
And
the chorus of birdsong had not been vent
Just
the cloud scudding across the murky sky
It
was certainly a peaceful morning to die
The
young soldier was led out in the silence
To
face the firing squad to serve his sentence
The
last cigarette signaled the end was nigh
What
an undignified manner in which to die
The
young man wanted to face his fate bravely
If
he must die then he would do so with dignity
He
would meet his maker with head held high
Though
it was such an ignominious way to die
He
did not run away and he was not a deserter
Nor
a coward and could not be called traitor
But
still he stood blindfold neath the dawn sky
In
battle would have been a better way to die
His
crime was to be blown over by an explosion
To
lose his weapon and to suffer a concussion
His
only visible injury was a cut above his eye
Its
ironic really he was very lucky not to die
He
was found wandering out of no mans land
Half
senseless and with no weapon in his hand
His
only injury was just that cut above his eye
It
really is ironic how lucky he was not to die
Little
did he know as he marched proudly away
What
would become of him on a cold Grey day
When
he kissed his love and then said goodbye
Little
did he know how he would come to die
Crying
out in fear is what filled him with dread
Before
the shot was heard he was already dead
A
new dawn breaking under the slate Grey sky
Why
exactly did this young soldier have to die?
History
would show that he was without blame
A
young soldier no longer associated with shame
In
the war to end all wars this you cannot deny
To
be shot at dawn was a ridiculous way to die
The Short S.25 Sunderland
Was
a British flying boat
And
Royal Air Force patrol bomber
In
the Battle of the Atlantic
Hunting
German U-boats
But
it was capable of more
Humanitarian
missions
And
took part in the Berlin airlift
“Dunkirk” is a World War II drama, screenplay by David Divine and W.P. Lipscomb based on the Novel’s by Lt. Col. Ewan Butler, Major J.S. Bradford M.B.E. M.C. and Trevor Dudley Smith and Directed by Leslie Norman.
Dunkirk is a dramatization of the British
Expeditionary Force's 1940 retreat to the beaches of France and the
extraordinary seaborne evacuation, Operation Dynamo, which saved it from utter destruction by Nazi
Germany.
It’s
actually two stories in one, firstly, seen through the eyes of a squad of
infantrymen, and their leader, Corporal
'Tubby' Binns (John Mills), an easygoing soldier who finds himself responsible
for the lives of his men when their officer is killed and he has to get them
back to Britain somehow.
The
second story concerns British civilians John Holden (Richard Attenborough),
Charles Foreman (Bernard Lee) and Frankie (Sean Barrett) who are drafted into
the war to get the French and British forces back from the Dunkirk beaches in
their little river cruisers.
The
two stories finally converge on the Dunkirk beaches.
Over 300,000 Allied troops escaped, living to fight
another day. This, and the method to evacuate them - the large scale use of
civilian craft of all shapes and sizes, bolstered British morale and ultimately
kept Britain in the war.
Vassili Zaitsev was a legendary Russian sniper at the siege of Stalingrad
German
soldiers on the whole did not know the name of this mountain lad
He
set fear and dread into the invaders hearts with his cold hunters eye
And
no German soldier in his sights was safe beneath the harsh winter sky
The
political commissars tried to turn him into a hero of the Russian peoples
But
Vassili saw himself simply as the young wolf hunter from the Urals
Despite
the propaganda his record shows he went about his work without pity
His
kills reaching two hundred and forty two during the siege of the city
It
can only be surmised what impact his deeds had on the battles out come
Just
the knowledge of his existence would have instilled real fear in some
His
actions certainly affected the efficiency of the German war machine
To
the average foot soldier young Vassili represented their doom unseen
The
Germans called on an SS Colonel Thorvald to cancel out the Russian
But
Vassili Zaitsev was triumphant out foxing the wily German marksman
His
success deprived the Nazis the freedom of movement within Stalingrad
So
young Vassili the wolf hunter from the Ural Mountains didn’t do too bad
Frederick Hitch was born a shoemaker’s son
In
Southgate, a hamlet to the north of London
It
was eighteen fifty-six on a November day
Born
to a large Victorian family as was the way
Fred
didn’t wish to follow in his father’s trade
So
as a builders laborer his way was made
But
when he was barely twenty years of age
He
was finding it tough to earn a decent wage
So
to petty crime as extra income he sought
But
he soon found himself up before the court
To
the judge he pleaded guilty for his crime
His
sentence, join the army or serve prison time
A
Victorian prison was the harshest punishment
So
as hobsons choice he chose to join a regiment
Two
days later private Frederick Hitch was put
In
the 2nd Battalion of the 24th Regiment of Foot
Very
soon they were on their way to South Africa
And
they all set sail on the Troopship Himalaya
Reaching
Simon's Bay and East London town
They
were sent on trains to King William's Town
This
was known locally as “White Man's Grave”.
The
regiment marched from here for several days
To
find the Galekas and the rebellion crush
Soon
they skirmished in the dense Petrie Brush
There
were further battles on that day before
Chief
Sandili was defeated in the last, Kaffir War.
For
several months stationed at Mount Kempt
There
were few things, for a young man to temp
It
was a tough way of life to earn a penny a day
But
Fred still sent some home to mother anyway
By
this time the Zulu nation had reached its peak
No
other African tribes had any strength to speak
Only
the “red soldiers” could ever be a threat
And
soon the 24th foot would their orders get
Lord
Chelmsford led the army to the other side
To
wage a war across the buffalo river wide
Defeat
at Isandhlwana and Chelmsfords shame
Then
too Rorkes Drift the victorious Zulu’s came
At
the drift a hospital and Swedish mission stood
To
be defended by only a few if they could
Less
than one hundred and fifty made the stand
To
fight the Zulu impi of more than four thousand
Young
private Frederick Hitch was one such man
Who
with his comrades stood fast and never ran
Fred
was ordered to the roof to act as a lookout
Firing
the first three shots at the enemy without
During
the fray comrade’s fell to left and right
As
wave upon wave of warriors came to fight
Private
hitch was shot through his shoulder blade
And
a comrade helped him as his dressing made
Doing
his best to help his soldier brothers
He
then began serving ammunition to the others
Then
exhaustion washed over him like a flood
And
finally, he collapsed from loss of blood
He
awoke confused finding himself in a stable
With
victory won and awaiting the surgeon table
After
Durban hospital care neath the southern star,
He
was finally sent home aboard the ship Tamar
He
was at Netley Hospital on his return to England
His
Victoria Cross was given by Victoria’s own hand
But
yesterday’s hero was tomorrows unemployed
A
medical boards decision Fred could not avoid
Unfit
for duty and discharged from his regiment
With
his medal and a pension, he had to be content
In
July of eighteen eighty-one he married Emily
They
move to Portchester Square to raise a family
Working
at the Imperial Institute as Commissionaire
His
V.C. was stolen while his tunic hung on a chair
After
twenty years and just as many occupations
Fred
with his family growing changed vocations
He
invested in a hackney carriage and horse
Then
a little later he owned a motor car of course
Fred
finally received his replacement Victoria Cross
Three
pounds, seven shillings and sixpence the cost
Only
the second person ever to receive a duplicate
But
the first to be charged a fee even to this date
On
January 5th 1913 Fred Hitch died in his sleep
Leaving
behind eight children and a wife to weep
At
his funeral, his coffin on gun carriage borne
With
dignity and reverence the people mourn
Thousands
came despite the cold and the biting rain
To
say goodbye to the hero and remember him again
The
gun carriage was flanked by Army outriders
Fred's
cab came next manually pulled by taxi drivers
A
boy scouts’ troop and the Chiswick firefighters
And
a firing party from the South Wales Borderers
Two
thousand cab drivers bringing up the rear
Respects
and Tributes to pay from far and near
A
memorial was erected to mark Fred’s Grave
At
Chiswick cemetery befitting a soldier brave
On
top of granite block some seven-foot in height
The
Union Jack carved with a sun helmet in site
The
helmet bears the badge of Hitch's old regiment
Finally
in bronze the cross and palm leaf represent
After
more than eighty-five years of standing sentinel
The
magnificent monument fell victim to a criminal
The
memorial found vandalized when visitors went
Even
the sun helmet stolen that adorned the monument
Also,
years had left stonework lacklustre on the edifice
And
the once bright bronze work tainted by Verdigris
Thanks
to Chiswick Council and the British Legion
The
monument restored and fit for rededication
In
Nineteen ninety-nine on Rorke’s Drifts day of glory
The
gathered crowd remembers the Fred Hitch story
“Your country needs you,” said Kitchener
You’re
needed to fight them over there
“It will be over by Christmas,” they said
But
it was just getting started instead
In
the cold trenches on Christmas morn
The
guns remained silent after the dawn
Soon
forgetting the horrendous conditions
Men
began emerging from their positions
The
opposing soldiers met in no mans land
Then
smiled and shook their enemies hand
Briefly
at peace both sides felt regrets
Then
they exchanged gifts of cigarettes
A
day without a single shot fired at all
They
even got to play a game of football
Sadly
the men returned their own way
They
began killing again on Boxing day
The Slingsby Hengist
Was
a British military glider
Like
other British gliders
Of
the Second World War,
Gliders
were named
After
military figures
Whose
name began with H,
So
it was named after Hengist,
The
legendary 5th century
Jutish
Conqueror of southern Britain.
But
on D-Day 1944
The
Hengist showed
It
was not a conqueror
But
a liberator of Europe
“Knight Without Armour” is a historical drama, screenplay by Tom Mankiewicz based on the novel by James Hilton and Directed by Jacques Feyder.
The
story revolves around A.J. Fothergill (Robert Donat), a fluent Russian speaker,
who is recruited as a British agent and sent to spy on the Bolshevik
revolutionary movement in 1913, shortly before World War I started.
He
plays his part so well that he's captured as a revolutionary and imprisoned in
Siberia and is held their until the 1917 uprisings when the revolutionary
forces free the political prisoners and Fothergill now has to try and make his
way home to Britain.
In a parallel story aristocrat Alexandra (Marlene Dietrich) is shocked one
morning when she wakes up to find her servants have fled because the Russian
Revolution had come to town, and she realises she has to leave her home as the
Bolsheviks are executing Czarist’s without hesitation.
It’s
after that how she comes to cross paths with Fothergill, and amid the turmoil
of the civil war between the red and white armies, they try to flee Russia.
In the flower of youth cut down
Pals
in regiments from every town
Sent
to fight in the Nations name
Sent
to die to the General’s shame
On
foreign fields a generation falls
Heroes
for whom the last post calls
Heroes
sent to fight across the seas
Names
now whispered on the breeze
Gathered
as the bell of tribute tolls
Now
call with pride the honor rolls
In eighteen hundred and seventy nine
The
British marched in ordered line
A
January morning on the eleventh day
Over
the Buffalo River they made their way
The
British force Lord Chelmsford led
As
on Zulu land his troops did tread
The
Zulu king sees this as an act of war
With
broken word and broken law
Lord
Chelmsford then his force divided
General
Pulliene to make his camp decided
At
Isanhlwana the British camp was made
Pickets
and defenses set against a Zulu raid
But
after eleven days in the Zulu’s land
The
British had to make their stand
The
warriors then the camp surround
After
exploiting any weakness found
The
Zulu impi many thousands strong
Defeat
the British in the ensuing throng
Over
seventeen hundred souls are lost
As
after the battle they count the cost
Also
countless numbers of Zulu’s dead
How
many wives and children left unfed?
An
organized army of foot and horse
Suffers
the worst defeat by a native force
