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Respecting the fallen?

















Moshe Gariani

Well-known member
Mar 10, 2005
12,068
I'll be in a meeting.
Will you suggest the meeting pauses at 11.00am for a moment of quiet reflection to respect the 100 year anniversary and remember those who gave their lives?
 


hans kraay fan club

The voice of reason.
Helpful Moderator
Mar 16, 2005
61,094
Chandlers Ford
Can we save the petty squabbling for other threads please, people, and keep this one respectful.

Thanks
 




The Large One

Who's Next?
Jul 7, 2003
52,343
97.2FM
Is this appropriate for the day, [MENTION=6886]Bozza[/MENTION]...?

NSC_Logo-05.jpg
 


HawkTheSeagull

New member
Jan 31, 2012
9,122
Eastbourne
A quiet 2 minutes of reflection.

The Sky engineers I currently have out asked whether it was fine with me if they took part in the silence, of course I have no issue.
 






Hamilton

Well-known member
NSC Patreon
Jul 7, 2003
12,393
Brighton
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.
 


DavidinSouthampton

Well-known member
NSC Patreon
Jan 3, 2012
16,540
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.

Even though I did a literature based degree, I have never been a great poetry fan, but the first world war poets really get to me. It is just coming up to 11am. Thanks for the reminder.
 
Last edited:


hans kraay fan club

The voice of reason.
Helpful Moderator
Mar 16, 2005
61,094
Chandlers Ford
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust conceal'd;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air.
Wash'd by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven
 




Munkfish

Well-known member
May 1, 2006
11,861
I'm livid, everyone took part in a two minutes silence, ending their calls or stop working. Apart from one bloke approaching his 50's continued tapping away while the whole office sat in silence. I'm probably more angry than I should be, but how hard can it be to take part.
 






SAC

Well-known member
May 21, 2014
2,534
I'm livid, everyone took part in a two minutes silence, ending their calls or stop working. Apart from one bloke approaching his 50's continued tapping away while the whole office sat in silence. I'm probably more angry than I should be, but how hard can it be to take part.

Don't be livid, it's his choice. It's not compulsory and I hope never is.
 




I'm livid, everyone took part in a two minutes silence, ending their calls or stop working. Apart from one bloke approaching his 50's continued tapping away while the whole office sat in silence. I'm probably more angry than I should be, but how hard can it be to take part.

Based on what you've written, he's a ****. If you're that angry, ask him in a non aggressive spoken tone, why he didn't want to take part? He'll probably give you a reason, you may not agree with his reason, but at least you'll know.
 





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