60 years ago today I travelled to Harrogate, in Yorkshire, to report to Hildebrand Barracks, co-located with Uniacke Barracks, to start my army career. Who would have thought I’d serve for 28 years and 151 days, and can someone please explain just where that 60 years has gone to?
You can read a bit more here (and I still haven’t finished this series):
On 23 April Nina wrote her poem, Unsung Heroes, and commented as follows:
*I felt really emotional writing this. Sometimes, Napowrimo feels like a mental excavation and it gets overwhelming when you try and write as authentically as you can. Is it just me? Anyway, it’s a really rough write that needs editing but like a lot of my writes this month, I’ve posted them as is.
You can see the original post here.
My response is below:
“I think this is an amazing piece of writing Nina which reads perfectly and powerfully. I would like to record it as a Spoken Word if I may, and repost it? I particularly like
“Death too lurks everywhere
as if with a daily quota to tick
but sometimes someone’s soul will say
not today, Death. Not today.”
Nina said OK, so here it is
Unsung Heroes
So many of them
walk among us.
Death too lurks everywhere
as if with a daily quota to tick
but sometimes someone’s soul will say
not today, Death. Not today.
The paramedic who does CPR just in time.
The woman who pulls you out of the way of a bus.
The lifeguard who drags you out of the current.
The allies, the valiant, acting on instinct.
Those who can talk you back from the brink
as you stand on a precipice
not knowing how you got there.
The deep-sea divers in Thailand some years ago
who saved that group of thirteen
and braved the flooded cave,
the valour, the strength, the resolve it took.
I cannot fathom such heroism.
Someone says the odds are slim
but courage says let us try, let us try
we have to, because we must.
And it’s true
that fortune favours the brave
for something on high steps in and says
I’ll help you.
The firefighters, the soldiers, the freedom fighters
performing feats of grit and mettle
looking death square in the eye.
They signed up for it
but how hard it must be
to keep your cool in the face of jeopardy
and know that one false move
means you would perish too.
That is some steel will, right there –
Timing, it’s all about timing, isn’t it?
One second too late and then –
And of course
the good, good parents doing their best
every day, all their days
the single mothers, the lone fathers
guardians, keepers, teachers, carers
cos that’s where it all begins
with those who keep a watchful eye
and do their part
to plant the good, good seeds.
That is all I have to say.
© N Nazir 2024
Here are two rather croaky renditions of Nina’s lovely, powerful words. I prefer the second one but it has a couple of slight reading errors!
I share this again because it matters to me. It did then, it does now, it always will. Many will have commented on this in previous years. Please do not feel obliged to comment again, but if you do feel the urge then a simple “Always Remember” will be very welcome. Thank you.
§
Chris decided long ago that he could no longer endure the Ceremony of Remembrance parades and services. It was too much for him. He knew that he would break down and weep copious tears, sobbing at all of the memories that he could not set aside. He could never forget!
Instead, each year, he went on his normal morning walk and found a quiet spot, apart from all human presence, and there he would remember his friends, and his enemies. Not all had died young, not all had died in battle. Some had not died, at least not straight away.
He remembered two young men. They had all just returned to camp after manoeuvres and were told they could not go home until all the vehicles had been cleaned and put away. One young man was newly married with a two-week-old baby. He persuaded his friend to take him home in his car. It wouldn’t take long, and they could be back before anybody noticed they were missing. The car was sporty, high-powered, and had a roll bar fitted. The young driver entered a bend far too fast, lost control, and rolled the car. It hit a tree. The roll bar saved the life of the driver but decapitated the young father.
He remembered two young Corporals, erecting an aerial mast on top of a vehicle in Germany, right underneath a very high voltage cable. One walked away with very serious burns, the other had horrendous burns and lost a leg and large portions of muscle mass. Chris had the job of taking inventory of the burned vehicle and its contents and then visiting the worst injured once he left the hospital to tell him that he no longer had a job but there was good news, his promotion to Sergeant had come through!
He remembered a young man who shot himself in the chest but survived, only to shoot himself in the head once he was back at work.
He remembered running for his life, literally, when it seemed that everyone wanted him dead when all around him were falling, screaming, dying. He would not forget!
He stood as usual, at 11am, at attention, alone. He remembered. How could he do anything else?
After two minutes of silence, of remembering, of trying to forget, he saluted, fell, and joined his comrades!
My wife said I always marched rather than walking, and it’s true!
I could cover a fair amount of ground at 120 paces to the minute, but that was no use if I walked with someone else, especially if it was my wife. She is only 5 feet and a gnat’s whisker; truth be told, she’s probably lost that gnat’s whisker by now!
120 paces to the minute is also a marvellous beat to many songs and I would often sing, hum, or whistle as I went along. There are some wonderful ribald army songs, remembered from long ago, that helped many a young man (no ladies in those days) keep going when his feet hurt from ill-fitting, hard, leather boots, and there were still several miles to go!
Of course, when my wife and I were doing long walks, or climbing steeply, we would often stop “to admire the view”. Not a case of being tired of course; Oh no!
When I first retired, I used to walk every day, alone. My wife suffers severe back pain that has progressed over time and even a gentle stroll can be horrendously painful, so it was always alone.
Since June 2021, when I first experienced vertigo, my walking has been very restricted. I no longer march, but Totter By Gently!
§
This was inspired when I received my annual catalogue from David Austin Roses and I saw this beautiful rose called:
Tottering-By-Gently
This is part of a series. Previous posts can be found by clicking on #PETER’S PONDERING PIPES.
Happy New Year 2023 – May your year be blessed with good health and contentment.
I share this again because it matters to me. It did then, it does now, it always will. Many will have commented on this in previous years. Please do not feel obliged to comment again, but if you do feel the urge then a simple “Always Remember” will be very welcome. Thank you.
§
Chris decided long ago that he could no longer endure the Ceremony of Remembrance parades and services. It was too much for him. He knew that he would break down and weep copious tears, sobbing at all of the memories that he could not set aside. He could never forget!
Instead, each year, he went on his normal morning walk and found a quiet spot, apart from all human presence, and there he would remember his friends, and his enemies. Not all had died young, not all had died in battle. Some had not died, at least not straight away.
He remembered two young men. They had all just returned to camp after manoeuvres and were told they could not go home until all the vehicles had been cleaned and put away. One young man was newly married with a two week old baby. He persuaded his friend to take him home in his car. It wouldn’t take long, and they could be back before anybody noticed they were missing. The car was sporty, high powered, and had a roll bar fitted. The young driver entered a bend far too fast, lost control, and rolled the car. It hit a tree. The roll bar saved the life of the driver but decapitated the young father.
He remembered two young Corporals, erecting an aerial mast on top of a vehicle in Germany, right underneath a very high voltage cable. One walked away with very serious burns, the other had horrendous burns and lost a leg and large portions of muscle mass. Chris had the job of taking inventory of the burned vehicle and its contents and then visiting the worst injured once he left hospital to tell him that he no longer had a job but there was good news, his promotion to Sergeant had come through!
He remembered a young man who shot himself in the chest but survived, only to shoot himself in the head once he was back at work.
He remembered running for his life, literally, when it seemed that everyone wanted him dead, when all around him were falling, screaming, dying. He would not forget!
He stood as usual, at 11am, at attention, alone. He remembered. How could he do anything else?
After two minutes of silence, of remembering, of trying to forget, he saluted, fell, and joined his comrades!
Tomorrow is Armistice Day and, at this time of year, I always get to thinking about those I have known, and those I never knew, who died, or were affected in any way by war, or in the service of their country and humanity. Service has always included not just military men and women but also the myriad folk who contributed, and continue to contribute, in any way whatsoever. The basic concept of Armistice Day is “Never Again”. The world should not forget that. The sentiment should not be Never Forget, but Always Remember. We have that responsibility.
I tend to get a little maudlin, each year, for a few days over this period and, I suppose, that is what prompted this poem!
§
Content!
Love sustains me beyond the fears, the insecurity, and the pain;
The very fundamentals of life…and death;
The in between that’s never seen;
The basic structures of existence:
And yet…here I am, uncertain, a little fearful, the beginnings of trepidation
For what?
I know not!
Perhaps it’s always been there. The insecurity, the uncertainty, the pain!
Nevertheless…I like that word…nevertheless I am what I am;
I am who I am;
I am where I am and, with that,
I am content!
An occasional post of my music choices. No analysis, or explanation, maybe just a few words to say why!
This is part of a series. Previous posts can be found by clicking on #PETER’S PONDERING PIPES.
Official video of The Highlanders 4SCOTS Pipes and Drums Flashmob held in Inverness City Centre on 04 September 2015.
This is part of a series. Previous posts can be found by clicking on #PETER’S PONDERING PIPES.
Evacuation of St Kilda – 92 years ago.
On 29th August 1930, following years of hardship and a dwindling population, the remaining 36 islanders from St Kilda were evacuated at their own request. They sailed to the mainland never to return, thus ending a way of life unchanged for centuries.
The slides were taken by James Smith during several visits as a work party member and the music is from “Skyedance” by Alasdair Fraser.
This is really all about the people of St Kilda, a hardy bunch of folk who lived very much hand to mouth until tourism and exploitation threatened their way of life. I have highjacked part of the story to feature the pipes within the musical accompaniment to the video.
I was fortunate to live and work on St Kilda for a total of eight months during the period December 1979 to January 1982, serving a rotational tour of approximately 6 weeks on and 12 weeks off depending on weather conditions for safe travel by either Landing Craft Logistic or by helicopter.
Here is a BBC news report which may be unavailable to anyone outside of the UK.
It started when I gave up smoking and went from there!
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