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In remembrance

moggy1968

Well-Known Member
Joined
Jun 12, 2013
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For remembrance

THE MEDIC
When the bullet hits the bone
The cry goes out
‘Medic, MEDIC!’
As your life blood oozes out
Into the soil of this foreign field

As the pain starts its evil grip
You call for your mother
But she isn't here, she cannot help you
So you cry out for God
But he isn't here, he cannot help you

So you cry out ‘Medic, medic’
I am here brother
I am coming for you
I will help you
I am here brother

‘Incoming, incoming, take cover’
But I cannot, I am coming for you brother
I break cover and I run
I jink from left to right
As the sound of a thousand bees pass my head

I am with you brother, I am with you
Torrents of sweat pour from under my helmet
It runs from my chin and nose
My breath is fast and urgent
I am scared but I am calm

The cold sweat runs inside my armour
I tear open my bag
Dressings packed into the remains of your leg
A tourniquet around your thigh
Morphine in your arm

More rounds come in
I shield you with my body
The dirt falls all around
I tell you you will be OK
But I don’t know if you will

As I work, I shout for EVAC
A drip in your arm
A dressing to the other
I cut open your jacket
Another dressing to your chest

The needle tears it’s hole
The sweetest pain of all
As it pushes into your chest
The air escapes with a hiss
Blood bubbles from is aperture

The breathing comes a little easier now
The morphine clouds your head
But the pain is still your relentless foe
You close your eyes against the sun
The pain is all around

All the senses heightened
The sickly smell of blood
the acrid stench of burnt flesh
The dry stale smell of the desert
The memories that will haunt me all my life

The sound of the distant chopper
As your fingers grip the earth
Through the fog of pain and morphine
You hear it too, salvations sound
Rotors swirl the dust, I shield your face and eyes

The team run from the aircraft
When they are by my side
We shout above the noise
We are with you Brother
We are with you

Strong arms lift you gently
From that foreign field
To a British stretcher and to safety
The blinding sun is gone
As they place you on the aircraft floor

The firefight is over now
Seated in the dirt I use the sand
To wipe the blood from my hands
I take my canteen from it’s pouch
Trembling now I savour cool water

When you needed me Brother I was there
While others took cover
I was there for you brother
We are the thankless, the derided
bravest of the brave
I am, a Medic

Capt Andy Thompson QARANC (v) retd
 
Poignant Moggy.. "Lest we Forget"
 
We watched the Festival of Remembrance last night as we always do but I think they’re going off track with the commemorations. There was a ballroom dancing feature with Jeff Goldbloom on the piano, what was all that about?
They should keep it all military/ex military. The focus should be on the remembrance and not ‘entertainment’. JMO
 
View attachment 161326

For remembrance

THE MEDIC
When the bullet hits the bone
The cry goes out
‘Medic, MEDIC!’
As your life blood oozes out
Into the soil of this foreign field

As the pain starts its evil grip
You call for your mother
But she isn't here, she cannot help you
So you cry out for God
But he isn't here, he cannot help you

So you cry out ‘Medic, medic’
I am here brother
I am coming for you
I will help you
I am here brother

‘Incoming, incoming, take cover’
But I cannot, I am coming for you brother
I break cover and I run
I jink from left to right
As the sound of a thousand bees pass my head

I am with you brother, I am with you
Torrents of sweat pour from under my helmet
It runs from my chin and nose
My breath is fast and urgent
I am scared but I am calm

The cold sweat runs inside my armour
I tear open my bag
Dressings packed into the remains of your leg
A tourniquet around your thigh
Morphine in your arm

More rounds come in
I shield you with my body
The dirt falls all around
I tell you you will be OK
But I don’t know if you will

As I work, I shout for EVAC
A drip in your arm
A dressing to the other
I cut open your jacket
Another dressing to your chest

The needle tears it’s hole
The sweetest pain of all
As it pushes into your chest
The air escapes with a hiss
Blood bubbles from is aperture

The breathing comes a little easier now
The morphine clouds your head
But the pain is still your relentless foe
You close your eyes against the sun
The pain is all around

All the senses heightened
The sickly smell of blood
the acrid stench of burnt flesh
The dry stale smell of the desert
The memories that will haunt me all my life

The sound of the distant chopper
As your fingers grip the earth
Through the fog of pain and morphine
You hear it too, salvations sound
Rotors swirl the dust, I shield your face and eyes

The team run from the aircraft
When they are by my side
We shout above the noise
We are with you Brother
We are with you

Strong arms lift you gently
From that foreign field
To a British stretcher and to safety
The blinding sun is gone
As they place you on the aircraft floor

The firefight is over now
Seated in the dirt I use the sand
To wipe the blood from my hands
I take my canteen from it’s pouch
Trembling now I savour cool water

When you needed me Brother I was there
While others took cover
I was there for you brother
We are the thankless, the derided
bravest of the brave
I am, a Medic

Capt Andy Thompson QARANC (v) retd

Respect.jpg
 
Capt Andy Thompson obviously had his why and what for reasons indelibly linked to psych and it sustained him . I imagine few had even that . Respect demands empathy and empathy we cannot give because without experience we cannot comprehend the senseless slaughter that is war . And it still goes on today .
upload_2019-11-10_12-16-9.jpeg

While watching the vid in the link below respecting the herculean effort and the fear i could not help but wonder how many women , children and allies died as a result of the aerial bombings , perhaps less in the distraction attack than in the actual attack , such is the glory of war .

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/hist...-normandy-ideal-way-remember-d-day-180951640/

I've heard it suggested schools should not discuss this part of human history , i was shocked to learn my 16 year old stepdaughter knew nothing at all about the subject and she cried when i gave her Schindler's List to watch on DVD . Is it not a parents job to help kids become better people ?
 
Capt Andy Thompson obviously had his why and what for reasons indelibly linked to psych and it sustained him . I imagine few had even that . Respect demands empathy and empathy we cannot give because without experience we cannot comprehend the senseless slaughter that is war . And it still goes on today .
View attachment 161330
While watching the vid in the link below respecting the herculean effort and the fear i could not help but wonder how many women , children and allies died as a result of the aerial bombings , perhaps less in the distraction attack than in the actual attack , such is the glory of war .

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/hist...-normandy-ideal-way-remember-d-day-180951640/

I've heard it suggested schools should not discuss this part of human history , i was shocked to learn my 16 year old stepdaughter knew nothing at all about the subject and she cried when i gave her Schindler's List to watch on DVD . Is it not a parents job to help kids become better people ?
I am (or was) Capt Andy Thompson
I wrote this last year.
 
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While i wasn't sure i knew you were a military medic and i appreciate the incite your poem offers .

I've wondered how civilian paramedics keep it together , a friend once borrowed my crash helmet only to die in a head on collision not half a mile from my front door so i arrived on scene only moments after paramedics . I didn't witness the full horror of what they seen but the trauma i seen in them left a lasting impression .

I can only offer respect whilst knowing its not enough .
 
While i wasn't sure i knew you were a military medic and i appreciate the incite your poem offers .

I've wondered how civilian paramedics keep it together , a friend once borrowed my crash helmet only to die in a head on collision not half a mile from my front door so i arrived on scene only moments after paramedics . I didn't witness the full horror of what they seen but the trauma i seen in them left a lasting impression .

I can only offer respect whilst knowing its not enough .

they don’t really. Most of the people I work with now are ex London ambulance service. All have left through burnout, almost all have issues. the burnout time for A&E nurses and paramedics can be as little as 5 years now.
People say ‘oh well your trained to deal with it’. You aren’t, your just a human being like everyone else.
A study in the USA found that the average life expectancy of an ED consultant was 58.
Other emergency services personnel also have significantly reduced life expectancy.
I became a medic largely because of my great uncle, Herbert Thompson who was RAMC and died at overloon during the battle of the bulge.

the RAMC is the most highly decorated corps in the British army. 2 of only 3 double VCs were won by RAMC personnel, also, slightly bizarrely, the only person to win the iron cross and the VC!!

I always find this time of year a bit difficult. I usually just spend it quietly with my family.
 
In remembrance , lest we forgot .

All to often things we never knew in today's world where they topple statues that offend their principals while having no idea how humanity evolved to its current state .
 
I've heard it suggested schools should not discuss this part of human history , i was shocked to learn my 16 year old stepdaughter knew nothing at all about the subject and she cried when i gave her Schindler's List to watch on DVD . Is it not a parents job to help kids become better people ?
Fair play to you.
I think all teenagers should visit a concentration camp, to learn where racism and religious hatred eventually end up.
The politically correct insist on teaching our children to be ashamed of the past greatness of this country and the sacrifices people made for their today, or ignoring the many great achievements altogether. In this climate of self flagellation we are expected to feel guilty about everything.
It’s up to us all to redress that balance.
 
Fair play to you.
I think all teenagers should visit a concentration camp, to learn where racism and religious hatred eventually end up.
The politically correct insist on teaching our children to be ashamed of the past greatness of this country and the sacrifices people made for their today, or ignoring the many great achievements altogether. In this climate of self flagellation we are expected to feel guilty about everything.
It’s up to us all to redress that balance.
I've never visited a concentration camp but I went with a friend in 2013 to visit the trenches and war graves (large & small) in South East France. I almost became a second millenium casualty when I slipped on wet wooden steps leading into one of the trenches, just a sprained ankle.
I can't really describe the feeling of seeing thousands of white crosses and knowing how they got there.
I remember at least one we visited had a section where human bones were laid out from recent finds, so they had their memorial even though they could not be identified. It's something I'll never forget. One thing that surprised me was that in one of the German sections there were graves with the Star of David on them, obviously Jewish soldiers.
This was just one of those cemeteries.


Crosses.JPG
 
Especially poignant when you consider the tens of thousands of the unidentified, marked only as "Soldier of the Great War, Known unto God" and the many thousands more lost with no known grave and thats only WW1. Lets also not forget the many millions of civilian deaths of both conflicts.
 
There’s no glory in war, it’s a necessary evil whenever the thirst for power gets out of control. Everyone who experiences it, military or civilian, are victims and heroes.

I thank God I haven’t had to, and I swear that’s only because of the bravery of those that experienced WWI & II. My thanks to them all.

Least we forget, I never will.
 
This is a report by Bob Stewart who was a commander of the 1st Battalion the Cheshire Regiment in 1991.
It's not just service people who must be remembered.
.
Today, Remembrance Sunday, is always a special, but also a sad, time for me. It is the day on which my mind mainly recalls people I once knew whose lives were cut short by war. I am afraid there have been quite a few of them from my previous life as a soldier.

The attached photograph was taken in March 1991 when the 1st Battalion the Cheshire Regiment, which I was then commanding, returned again for a brief counter-terrorist operation in Northern Ireland. It shows three officers and myself beside the memorial we had previously erected in memory of 17 people who lost their lives close-by in the Dropp’in Well Bomb, Ballykelly on 6 December 1982.

Six of the 11 soldiers' names on the memorial were from my then sub-unit, A Company, 1st Cheshires. Another 6 of those names were innocent civilians; one young man and 5 young women, who were also murdered in the same terrorist explosion. One of them, aged 18, died as I held her. I remain haunted by the short talk we had as her life slipped away in just a few short minutes. She was terribly calm and brave despite knowing, because, God help me, I told her when she asked, that she was dying. All she requested was that I held her as she went. I did so but was distraught and useless for several minutes thereafter. Thus today I remember her and the other 4 young civilian girls and one young boy killed that night, just as much as my soldiers.

Actually there are also over 300 civilian names on the Beckenham War Memorial too. That may surprise some, but in the Second World War, Beckenham was slap in the middle of Hitler’s bombing runs to London from the Continent. Our local area was hit time and time again, first by a few free-fall bombs, then later by V1 flying bombs (Doodlebugs) and finally V2 rockets which were the world's first long-range guided ballistic missiles. Doodlebugs and V2 rockets were particularly devastating and they terrorised local people for many months in 1944. For instance, in July 1944, the area now known as Beckenham Green contained the Railway Hotel and quite a few houses. One night two Doodlebugs landed and leveled both the Station Hotel and all the surrounding buildings; killing more than a dozen civilians including women and children.

So today I will remember everyone, regardless of race, religion or nationality who has been killed in war. I will do that particularly at 11am this morning beside the Beckenham War Memorial; probably shedding a surreptitious tear for those I knew whilst doing so.

“There are many kinds of sorrow
In this World of love and hate
But there is no keener sorrow
Than a soldier’s for his mate.”

War poem by Captain the Rev Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy MC
(Padre ‘Woodbine’ Willie)
1918
 
I lost a friend in the IRA Cabin pub bombing in Birmingham city centre in the mid 70s. I also remember that the local council wouldn’t let us erect a memorial plaque in the place after it was rebuilt, which we lads were adamant should have been allowed.

Now, I don’t know who was right, looking back.

Anyway, the whole city centre has been rebuilt since then, and all we have is our memories, until they die with us.

I think more people than you might think respect their liberty and freedom in the UK, the shite that folks in Romania (and other less fortunate countries) had to endure since the war, brings it home even more for me.

“The hardest thing to predict is history” and IMO modern history should be taught in schools as well as the 1066 stuff.

“History teaches us nothing” is a common phrase, but it’s not surprising, if we’re not made aware of it.
 
Indeed, remembrance day is very much about remembering all those that have suffered as a result of war, that includes soldiers, civilians, relatives of casualties etc. Many of my colleagues have seen it first hand and are scarred by it.
colonel Bob was a good man, very principled he tried to stand up against the singularly useless UN and it's pathetic efforts in the former Yugoslavia, a, horrific war in which the innocent died in their thousands, a war which showed that even within living memory we can forget the lessons of history and the reality of religious or ethnic genocide.
 
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