*hugs* I don't know how I'll feel later on, but I do feel a slight cheer when I look down the barrel of the same weapon folks have looked down before. Yeah, sure, it's loaded. But it might not go off.
"12:50 a.m.—Awakened by a noise like a fog-horn gone quite mad.
"12:55 a.m.—Realise someone has smelt gas, cannot find gas-helmet or shirt.
"1 a.m.—Grope about for matches and candles—find to my discomfort several extra articles of furniture in the hut—curse volubly.
"1:15 a.m.—People rush in to remind me that I am orderly "bloke." Have heated alteraction with "next of duty" as to when term of office ends. Matter settled by the entrance of C.O.—AM orderly officer.
"1:15 a.m.—Stumble round camp—rumour of "Stand-to"—curse abominably.
"1:30 a.m.—Rumour squashed—gas alarm false—someone's clockwork motor-bike horn came unstuck—curse again—retire to bed.
3:30 a.m.—Sleeping peacefully.
3:35 a.m.—Alarming noise. Someone with bigger feet than sense of decency enters the hut; and knocks over a bully-beef box doing excellent work as a chair; collides with everybody's field-boots, mistakes my bed for his, and sits down on same— . . . .
I don't know how I'll feel later on, but I do feel a slight cheer when I look down the barrel of the same weapon folks have looked down before. Yeah, sure, it's loaded. But it might not go off.
'"...They climbed into the trench and surprised the sentry, but unfortunately the revolver which was held to his head missed fire. Attempts were made to throttle him quietly, but he succeeded in raising the alarm, and had to be killed." This we consider real bad luck for the sentry after the previous heroic efforts to keep him alive.'
"We regret to announce that an insidious disease is affecting the Division, and the result is a hurricane of poetry. Subalterns have been seen with a notebook in one hand, and bombs in the other absently walking near the wire in deep communication with their muse. Even Quartermasters with books, note, one, and pencil, copying, break into song while arguing the point re boots. gum, thigh. The Editor would be obliged if a few of the poets would break into prose as a paper cannot live by 'poems' alone."
Both the historical Fred Roberts and Jack Pearson would have been alive for the formation of the canon of war poets of the trenches and I bet they had opinions.
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I did not transcribe the advertisement for a cure for optimism!
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*hugs* I don't know how I'll feel later on, but I do feel a slight cheer when I look down the barrel of the same weapon folks have looked down before. Yeah, sure, it's loaded. But it might not go off.
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"12:40 a.m.—Sleeping peacefully.
"12:45 a.m.—Not sleeping peacefully.
"12:50 a.m.—Awakened by a noise like a fog-horn gone quite mad.
"12:55 a.m.—Realise someone has smelt gas, cannot find gas-helmet or shirt.
"1 a.m.—Grope about for matches and candles—find to my discomfort several extra articles of furniture in the hut—curse volubly.
"1:15 a.m.—People rush in to remind me that I am orderly "bloke." Have heated alteraction with "next of duty" as to when term of office ends. Matter settled by the entrance of C.O.—AM orderly officer.
"1:15 a.m.—Stumble round camp—rumour of "Stand-to"—curse abominably.
"1:30 a.m.—Rumour squashed—gas alarm false—someone's clockwork motor-bike horn came unstuck—curse again—retire to bed.
3:30 a.m.—Sleeping peacefully.
3:35 a.m.—Alarming noise. Someone with bigger feet than sense of decency enters the hut; and knocks over a bully-beef box doing excellent work as a chair; collides with everybody's field-boots, mistakes my bed for his, and sits down on same— . . . .
3:59 a.m.—Order restored by Company Commander.
6:0 a.m.—Reveillé."
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Are we being as offensive as we might be?
*hugs*
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'"...They climbed into the trench and surprised the sentry, but unfortunately the revolver which was held to his head missed fire. Attempts were made to throttle him quietly, but he succeeded in raising the alarm, and had to be killed." This we consider real bad luck for the sentry after the previous heroic efforts to keep him alive.'
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https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/reviews/tv-review-the-wipers-times-bbc2-a-bit-like-blackadder-only-true-8810148.html
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Yes! It's wonderful. I saw it in 2021. And with any luck it will play on YouTube in your country and happy Armistice Day.
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Their gallows humor was top-notch.
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"We regret to announce that an insidious disease is affecting the Division, and the result is a hurricane of poetry. Subalterns have been seen with a notebook in one hand, and bombs in the other absently walking near the wire in deep communication with their muse. Even Quartermasters with books, note, one, and pencil, copying, break into song while arguing the point re boots. gum, thigh. The Editor would be obliged if a few of the poets would break into prose as a paper cannot live by 'poems' alone."
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Go much better with your black pleather pants than puttees.
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Both the historical Fred Roberts and Jack Pearson would have been alive for the formation of the canon of war poets of the trenches and I bet they had opinions.