Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll …..

Who Are You Tommy? Or rather, who were You?

Today we stand in remembrance of you, the fallen soldier. How many of us ever knew you, how many of us would have wanted to know you when you were alive?

Now you are feted as the ‘cream of British manhood’ – the Queen will bow her head to you – but when you were alive, who were you, what were you?

You weren’t that bright – you weren’t behind a desk in Whitehall directing operations, you were out there in the firing line. You weren’t that articulate – it’s not you the media interview when they want to know how the war is going.

Did you not fancy a job in the local steel works, or were there just not any going? What did they teach you at school – not quite enough to make it to university? Not even quite enough to get a job in the local job centre. Born in the wrong part of the country to be a ‘city trader’?

You were never going to be invited to smart dinner parties, no chance of your home featuring in the glossy magazines. One of life’s losers, Sharon said, when she dumped you.

Big lad, were you? Bit of a bruiser, given to a few too many fights after the disco turned out? Can’t have happened often, you were only just old enough to buy a drink. Only just old enough to vote. A few years ago you couldn’t even have married without Mum’s permission.

Those airbrushed women in the magazines weren’t queuing up to marry you though, were they? I hope you had a few fumbles with Sharon or Tracey – maybe you’ve even got a son now – but they weren’t queuing up to wash your socks either.

Your Mum had only just stopped nagging you to wash behind your ears when the sergeant major started nagging you to clean your rifle.

You’d escaped from a life of being the butt of advertiser’s jokes, the archetypical ‘English male’ – can’t figure out how to get back from Hong Kong without a women snatching the laptop and exclaiming – such brilliance – ‘we’ll get a plane’!

You escaped from the Dole queue, from Mum’s nagging, from a United Kingdom where you really weren’t wanted, or appreciated.

You’ve got a heart of gold, the regiment taught you things you never imagined, you remade your family amongst your mates – you would, you did, give your life for them.

Just look at you now baby face – for a whole two minutes, the great and the good will extol your virtues.

Enjoy your two minutes of fame and high praise. It’s more than your mates will ever get.

All you had to do was die. For us – and all the others who weren’t on the front line.

John77 November 18, 2011 at 16:16

If you are looking at military casualties in both WWI and WWII, you should
– without diminishing sympathy for Tommy Atkins – remember that the casualty
rate among junior officers was significantly higher than for “other ranks”. It
was estimated that the life expectancy for a second lieutenant in 1917 was
THREE WEEKS.
Some of those above think only “other ranks were in the front
line – I suggest that they go and read the War Memorials. Also, Percy,
Churchill fought in three wars before entering Parliament and in WWI after
doing so, Eden, MacMillan and Attlee served in WWI, so to pretend to define
Churchill by WWII, Attlee by Korea, Eden by Suez is contemptible.

Pompey Cowboy
November 12, 2011 at 20:22

Poppies should now reflect all those who lost thier lives during world
turmoil. Our brave british lads laid down their lives but also many German
& Italian lads died , and had no chance— fight or be shot– they are
victims as well. Even in Spain they had a terrible civil war, and many lost
their lives in this.
Many Australian Candian, America South African, Indian
lads died in WW2 and should be remebered

David
Duff November 12, 2011 at 08:34

DaveK and Peter Thomas are, I suspect, missing a distinction, that is, the
difference between the ‘civilians’ in the armed services who volunteered or
were called up in both world wars, and the regular soldiers. Kipling’s ‘Tommy
Atkins’, to whom Ms. Raccoon makes reference, was definitely in the latter
group and I would say, based on 9 years in the infantry, that her
generalisation was as accurate as you can be when trying to particularise one
character from a huge group.

Also, may I try and dispel any notion that WWI was somehow not worth
fighting. If France had fallen and the Germans had gained control of the
Atlantic ports, and if Jellicoe had lost at Jutland, the German navy would
have starved us into submission in a matter of months. The difference between
Hitler’s Germany and the Kaiser’s Prussian Germany was minimal.

john malpas November 12, 2011 at 00:35

It is so easy to sneer. Dont forget that most of the men sitting in
fighters in the battle of britain were both educated and volunteers. And were
patriots.
The russians did fight for patriotic reasons. Once the
sophisticated socialists were removed from their command.
I doubt that any
of you were actually there.

Mark November 11, 2011 at 23:24

As far as feminists are concerned the only things men are fit for are as ”
cashpoints and cannon fodder.” Your excellent post reminded me of that
quote.

Cascadian November 11, 2011 at 23:03

The landlady provides a tribute to the underclasses who disproportionately
have served their country and suffered casualties. Perhaps her nod to a
wonderful Kipling poem was a little too subtle for some. It describes the very
point she makes, here it is. (I believe ancient and tattered airman might have
alluded to the same)

http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/tommy.html

And the point, for those who missed it. We oftentimes are too quick to
criticize the unemployed, poorly-schooled young men who cannot find their
niche in society, and yet given a chance they quickly become our heroes, just
so long as we don’t have to deal with them.

As to the comments asking about the wimmin, the professional class of
soldiers and snobbery, I despair, can we not praise one section of society
without implying criticism of others? Or perhaps Percy is correct, all the
very best were sacrificed, all that is left are quibblers and pen-pushers.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning.
We will remember them
(All-I hope)

Thank you lads.

gladiolys November 12, 2011 at 08:04

It is somewhat ironic that you describe those who have made sacrifices as
“underclasses” – I accept that might not be your opinion of such people but
the use of that word (anywhere) really rankles with me.

Cascadian
November 12, 2011 at 17:36

gladiolys…..I try not to torture the language, it is what it is. Family
members who fought in the war would have been considered the working-class
, they came from the East End of London, that’s not to say they did not
have pride in themselves and would never wish to be considered
upper-class.

Working-class obviously does not apply to the group, if you have a
better generic description I would be happy to hear it.

I hope I conveyed my sincere gratitude to ALL who contributed to the
downfall of tyranny.

Peter Thomas
November 11, 2011 at 21:38

What DaveK said; also, you appear to know little about the armed forces or
those who serve in them. And what about the women who serve?

Ancient + Tattered
Airman November 11, 2011 at 20:47

Thanks for that link serendipity. I was going to add a poem from Kipling
but my memory failed me.

TheNoseyMole
November 12, 2011 at 23:33

Airman

Was the poem this?

Gethsemane
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
1914-1918

The Garden called Gethsemane
In Picardy it was,
And there the
people came to see
The English soldiers pass.
We used to pass—we used
to pass
Or halt, as it might be,
And ship our masks in case of
gas
Beyond Gethsemane.

The Garden called Gethsemane,
It held a pretty lass,
But all the
time she talked to me
I prayed my cup might pass.
The officer sat on
the chair,
The men lay on the grass,
And all the time we halted
there
I prayed my cup might pass.

It didn’t pass—it didn’t pass-
It didn’t pass from me.
I drank it
when we met the gas
Beyond Gethsemane!

serendipidy November 11, 2011 at 19:17

http://www.barefootsworld.net/warisaracket.html

Percy November 11, 2011 at 19:01

We are a warlike people. We always have been. We are always at war with
someone. When in the last 300 years have we not been at war with someone?
Anyone?
Our politicians and political leaders are defined by the wars they
have been involved with. Churchill and WW2, Eden and the Suez Canal, Maggie
and the Falklands, Blair and Iraq, Wellington and the Napoleonic wars, etc,
etc.
Finally we are bankrupt and friendless, and the best of our genes and
blood we left on the Somme, Waterloo, Balaclava, and Alamein. Only forlorn
misfits, criminals and dependants survive the endless bloodletting and
spending. Even the prat Cameron is defined now by Libya.

BenSix November
12, 2011 at 12:34

We’re not a warlike people. We just have leaders who like war.

Percy November 12, 2011 at 18:53

Yes. They love it. We need a constitution that forbids war on any basis
except invasion of the homeland or invasion of a neighbour with whom we
have an iron bound treaty of mutual defence. Immediate neighbour, cast
iron treaty.

Clarissa November 14, 2011 at 09:19

Our involvement in WW1, WW2, the Falklands and the Napoleonic wars was in
response to acts of aggression towards us, our lands or our friends
(Portugal being our oldest friend). Dealing with the aggressors was
necessary else we ourselves suffered.

Suez and Iraq 2 were unnecessary acts of aggression which rightly
resulted in the end of Eden and the vilification of Blair.

Libya was us stupidly intervening in someone else’s civil war and Cameron
may yet pay a price for that.

Joe Public November 11, 2011 at 16:54

Never let us forget how few politicians die in the wars they commit our
Armed Forces to.

Spiral Architect
November 11, 2011 at 14:34

Actually – that’s just a pile of over-simplified shite (with more than a
hint of snobbery in your assumptions too).

I am surprised at you.

Engineer November 11, 2011 at 11:41

The price of peace and freedom is a high one.

It is right to remember, and reflect.

DaveK November 11, 2011 at 11:00

Excellent prose Anna, but after a second read it actually made me very
angry.

It reminds me of a newspaper article years back when unemployment was
reaching record levels and the young man stated that it was so bad he “may
even join the Navy”. I’d love to have seen him in a Careers Office.

The Armed Forces are not the last resort for losers, and my relatives who
enlisted to help their nation and who gave their lives at Ypres and in the Med
had jobs and families. None of them were shiny @rsed journalists though.

Please remember them, as you sit in a country liberated by these lads
possessing the freedom to demean them in this condescending manner.

p.s.

I did want a job in the local steel works.
I did O levels and A
levels.
I dislike dinner parties.
My home will not be in a glossy
magazine, however the one in Italy may be one day.
I have not had liaisons
with Viz characters.

Saul November 11, 2011 at 10:54

Seen elsewhere….

The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He
hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

‘Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you
always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true?’

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
‘No, Lord, I guess I
ain’t.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And
sometimes I’ve been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep…
Though I worked
a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with
fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I’ve wept unmanly tears.

I know I don’t deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never
wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you’ve a place for me here, Lord,
It needn’t be so grand.
I never
expected or had too much,
But if you don’t, I’ll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often
trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

‘Step forward now, you soldier,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Walk
peacefully on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in Hell.’

Gloria Smudd
November 11, 2011 at 21:17

That’s a lovely poem, Saul. You watch and bide your time and then come in
with something with exquisite relevance. Can you tell me (us) who wrote this
poem?

Saul November 12, 2011 at 08:20

I think it is one of those “unknown author” poems that has been around
for a long time. Here is another part to it.

It’s the Soldier, not the reporter
who has given us the freedom of
the press.

It’s the Soldier, not the poet,
who has given us the freedom of
speech.

It’s the Soldier, not the politicians
that ensures our right to
Life, Liberty and the
Pursuit of Happiness.

It’s the Soldier who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the
flag,
and whose coffin is draped by the flag.

Caedmon’s
Cat November 11, 2011 at 09:38

Does anybody actually know what they died for? It simply won’t do to glibly
state that they died in the defense of King and Country – or to stem German
territorial ambitions; history – as they say – is merely propaganda that’s
shaped by the victors. This isn’t a theoretical question; there were members
of my own paternal family who died on the Somme, but I’ve not yet managed to
hear a plausible and coherent rationale for the hell of those trenches. All I
can surmise is that it managed to cull a substantial proportion of the male
population. Horribly. And it made a lot of money for those whose investments
funded and sustained it..

JimS November 11, 2011 at 10:07

The reasons must be as many as the people involved; for those ‘at the
bottom’ some would be up for any fight, others wouldn’t have hurt a fly.

As for the reasons ‘at the top’ well that is one of the products of
hierarchical ‘command and control’ systems where decisions affecting
millions are made according to a list of a few figures on a single sheet of
paper. The longer the chain of command the easier it is to make those
‘tough’ decisions and the bigger the ‘responsibility’ salary you can award
yourself.

Clarissa November 11, 2011 at 11:34

Best answer I can give is that those who died in WW1 and WW2 did so to
stop the pursuit of power by those hell bent on achieving it.

What I can’t answer, beyond the glib, is why we are throwing away the
lives of young men in Afghanistan (and recently Iraq).

Single Acts of
Tyranny November 11, 2011 at 16:50

So WW2 dead stopped Stalin achieving power?

WW1 dead stopped nothing much when you consider Versailles was just
half time for WW2

Clarissa November 14, 2011 at 09:06

WW2 was about stopping Hitler and was of course followed by a set of
proxy conflicts between the West and the USSR in various places around
the world.

WW1 was about stopping the Kaiser and the settlement terms imposed
afterwards did indeed contribute to the rise of Hitler and thus WW2. The
allies learnt their lesson and played things different next time
round.

Engineer November 11, 2011 at 11:49

Dry political histories leave me cold, in the main.

Some years ago, I read of a group of farm labourers, in Sussex I think,
discussing their imminent call-up.

“But what are we fighting for?” asked one.

Another bent down, caught up a handful of soil, and replied, “For
that.”

It’s the nearest I’ve found to a rational explaination of unrational
events, and whenever it comes to mind, I think of times spent in the quiet
of natural beauty.

It’s not very good, but that’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.

David
Duff November 11, 2011 at 09:37

Thank you – simply superb.

Caedmon’s
Cat November 11, 2011 at 09:40

Seconded.

Barry Sheridan
November 11, 2011 at 09:09

Thanks for remembering Anna. We have lost too many of these lads whose
sense of worth was to be found doing what many who claim to be leaders or
opinion formers in this nation despise. Acting with honour. Bless them
all.