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Well said Mrs

There was a gentleman and former soldier on the news earlier who said as well as the soldiers who died, he always remembered his friends who died from the after effects of nerve gas. These fellows died after the wars had ended and in the soldiers words "died a premature death from the after effects and do not have their names on war memorials". Very sad and poignant that. 'http://www.dcfcfans.co.uk/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/sad' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':(' />

RIP, lest we forget xx

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Just seen this in my local paper, part of a longer poem from an old soldier, a Normandy landings veteran...



The one I remember is "Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori". Translated roughly as "It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country". Wilfred Owen used it during WW1 and sadly died a week before it ended. I'm sure he would have liked to live for it instead.

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By Wilfred Owen.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks

Knock kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge

Till on 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 shell's dropping softly behind.

Gas, gas - Quick boys! An ecstacy 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,

Bitter as the cud,

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues -

My friend, you would not tell me with such high zest,

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The Old Lie - Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

This is why I remember them, the horrors they experienced and what they died for. RIP the fallen xx

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11/11 is pocky day here in Japan and it was peppero day in Korea.

One of my favourite days as I am showered with chocolate sticks by my many students. 'http://www.dcfcfans.co.uk/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/biggrin' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':D' /> 'http://www.dcfcfans.co.uk/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/biggrin' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':D' />

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