'They Shall Not Grow Old...'

[St. George]

Originally written to commemorate the ANZAC dead of the Great War - 'For the Fallen' is read on 'Remembrance Day'  - the 11th of November - a day set aside much like our own 'Memorial Day' that commemorated those soldiers who fell in battle during our Civil War.

That's what 'Memorial Day' was supposed to mean - a day set aside for patriotic speeches, parades and the remembering of our forefathers' sacrifices made in Service to the Country...

Would that it were ever thus...

If you can - take some time to visit the final resting place of those you've known and served with  and those you've loved who've passed before.
Take a small brush and clean off their stone and think about them for a few minutes.
They'd do the same for you if they could - after all - they were soldiers and they know that just to be remembered by fellow soldiers counts for a lot...

Vaya,

Scouts Out!



'For The Fallen'

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)

[Fox Creek Kid]

Argonnerwald, um Mitternacht
Pionierlied aus dem Weltkrieg, 1915


Argonnerwald, um Mitternacht,
Ein Pionier stand auf der Wacht.
Ein Sternlein hoch am Himmel stand,
Bringt Grüße ihm aus fernem Heimatland.

Und mit dem Spaten in der Hand,
Er vorne in der Sappe stand.
Mit Sehnsucht denkt er an sein Lieb,
Ob er es wohl noch einmal wiedersieht.

Und donnernd dröhnt die Artill'rie,
Wir stehen vor der Infant'rie,
Granaten schlagen bei uns ein,
Der Franzmann will in uns're Stellung 'rein.

Und droht der Feind uns noch so mehr,
Wir Deutschen fürchten ihn nicht mehr.
Und ob er auch so stark mag sein,
In uns're Stellung kommt er doch nocht 'rein.

Der Sturm bricht los! Die Mine kracht!
Der Pionier gleich vorwärts macht.
Bis an den Feind macht er sich ran
Und zündet dann die Handgranate an.

Die Infant'rie steht auf der Wacht,
Bis daß die Handgranate kracht,
Geht dann mit Sturm bis an den Feind,
Mit Hurra bricht sie in die Stellung ein.

Argonnerwald, Argonnerwald,
Ein stiller Friedhof wirst du bald.
In deiner kühlen Erde ruht
So manches tapfere Soldatenblut.

[Steel Horse Bailey]

Hey, FCK!

A small few of us may understand this ( I can understand about 2/3rds ) but a translation would be apropos, if possible.

Most won't know where the Agonner Forest is or that Weltkrieg  1915 is referring to part of WWI.

But it DOES show that the "enemy" (who is now a friend) can share the same feelings and sentiment.

[Fox Creek Kid]

Argonne Forest, at midnight,
A sapper stands on guard.
A star shines high up in the sky,
bringing greetings from a distant homeland.

And with a spade in his hand,
He waits forward in the sap-trench.
He thinks with longing on his love,
Wondering if he will ever see her again.

The artillery roars like thunder,
While we wait in front of the infantry,
With shells crashing all around.
The Frenchies want to take our position.

Should the enemy threaten us even more,
We Germans fear him no more.
And should he be so strong,
He will not take our position.

The storm breaks! The mortar crashes!
The sapper begins his advance.
Forward to the enemy trenches,
There he pulls the pin on a grenade.

The infantry stand in wait,
Until the hand grenade explodes.
Then forward with the assault against the enemy,
And with a shout, break into their position.

Argonne Forest, Argonne Forest,
Soon thou willt be a quiet cemetary.
In thy cool earth rests
much gallant soldiers' blood.

[Steel Horse Bailey]

Thank You.