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.
So far today I've read up on the HMS Thetis, HMS Dasher and Douglas Bader. I know it wasn't the First World War but I think the best way to remember is by education.
I've been reading some of Sigfried Sassoon's First World War poetry. His is a name that I recall from my high school English lessons, which was brought to mind by @JLWBigLil's image above. Deeply moving. Link here to his page on the Poetry Foundation site, and through that to his poems. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/siegfried-sassoon
Probably my favourite poetry that we covered at school. This was my favourite, by Wilfred Owen: Dulce et Decorum est 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
I 'fill up' whenever I see this. It is emotionally powerful since although they were fictional characters in long running series over a number of years we came to 'know' them in a way that is not really possible with a film, and in spite of their obvious flaws they were endearing and likeable. The startling juxtaposition of the final scene in a comedy series heightened the emotional shock of seeing the senseless demise of 'old friends' for all of us who followed Blackadder from the start.
