From the darkness on all sides came the groans and wails of wounded men; faint, long, sobbing moans of agony, and despairing shrieks. It was too horribly obvious that dozens of men with serious wounds must have crawled for safety into new shell-holes, and now the water was rising about them and, powerless to move, they were slowly drowning. Horrible visions came to me with those cries - of Woods and Kent, Edge and Taylor, lying maimed out there trusting that their pals would find them, and now dying terribly, alone amongst the dead in the inky darkness. And we could do nothing to help them; Dunham was crying quietly beside me, and all the men were affected by the piteous cries...
Edward Campion Vaughan
'There was not a sign of life of any sort. Not a tree, save for a few dead stumps which looked strange in the moonlight. Not a bird, not even a rat or a blade of grass. Nature was as dead as those Canadians whose bodies remained where they had fallen the previous autumn. Death was written large everywhere. Where there had been farms there was not a stick or a stone to show. You only knew them because they were marked on the map. The earth had been churned and re-churned. It was simply a soft, sloppy mess, into which you sank up to the neck if you slipped from the duckboard tracks - and the enemy had the range of those slippery ways. Shell hole cut across shell hole. Pits of earth, like simmering fat, brimful of water and slimy mud, mile after mile as far as the eye could see. It is not possible to set down the things that could be written of the Salient. They would haunt your dreams.'
RA Colwell, Private, Passchendaele
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Monday, May 31, 2004
Memorial Day
The jets just thundered overhead in the Missing Man formation. They flew by very low, I could feel the bass vibrations rumble through me.
I'm a child of the Vietnam era. I silently remember - dead bodies in jungle clearings, a letter from my brother asking for help for a orphanage in Quang Tri, a dinner party in South Ozone Park where a friend home from the war leaped behind a chair in relex duck and cover when a car backfired loudly outside. I remember a college friend who used to shyly carry my books going off and not returning.
I remember taking my children to Fredricksburg and Chancellorsville; walking the lines on a battlefield where the trenches were evident over a century later.
Taps was played earlier. I remember being taken as a child to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; standing silent, hand held by my mother. Years later I went with Alan and Nick to the Vietnam memorial in Washington. Walked the wall silently reading the names, tears dripping down my cheeks at the loss, the sacrifice. I remember Alan's voice when he told me about Passchendaele.
There are no easy answers for why we march these young souls off to war and sacrifice them to the firey mouth of Moloch. The least I can do is remember.
I'm a child of the Vietnam era. I silently remember - dead bodies in jungle clearings, a letter from my brother asking for help for a orphanage in Quang Tri, a dinner party in South Ozone Park where a friend home from the war leaped behind a chair in relex duck and cover when a car backfired loudly outside. I remember a college friend who used to shyly carry my books going off and not returning.
I remember taking my children to Fredricksburg and Chancellorsville; walking the lines on a battlefield where the trenches were evident over a century later.
Taps was played earlier. I remember being taken as a child to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; standing silent, hand held by my mother. Years later I went with Alan and Nick to the Vietnam memorial in Washington. Walked the wall silently reading the names, tears dripping down my cheeks at the loss, the sacrifice. I remember Alan's voice when he told me about Passchendaele.
There are no easy answers for why we march these young souls off to war and sacrifice them to the firey mouth of Moloch. The least I can do is remember.
Why I despise Opera browser
I haven't mention how much I dislike Opera broser. I really despise it and loathe the people who produced it both for their deception and arrogance. I uninstalled it tonight and suddenly all the awful problems my laptop was having disappeared. it definitely has a serious memory leak-resource management problem. It has loads of other problems I won't even go into. Also, the bastards who produce it do not supply a users manual. They refuse to support it if you use it as adware. They exchange the free use for allowin gthem to feed ads to your PC, claim it's free then. It's n ot, you HAVE paid for it by allowin gthem to send you adverts. And then they demand to be paid to tell you how to use it? No. This is not on.
In its place I installed Flashpeak Slimbrowser. This is an excellent product and freeware. Genuine freeware. As in no adverts. No bullshit. Free. And a real manual. And courteous support. My computer likes it as much as I do. It's a lovely piece of software, great usability, browsing becomes the pleasure it should be.
In its place I installed Flashpeak Slimbrowser. This is an excellent product and freeware. Genuine freeware. As in no adverts. No bullshit. Free. And a real manual. And courteous support. My computer likes it as much as I do. It's a lovely piece of software, great usability, browsing becomes the pleasure it should be.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
I must be suffering an episode of brain deadness. I logged onto Blogger to post something that occured to me and I thought was sufficiently important and interesting enough to post. By the time I got here, after all the interruptions, I'd completely forgotten what it was I wanted to post. I suppose that means it wasn't exactly world shaking.
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