One cannot but be emotionally moved when reading the works of poets from the Great War, Brookes, Owen, Rosenberg and Sassoon. among them. The writings of many, the last three mentioned particularly, dwell heavily on the horrors of war, whereas WW II soldier poets ( at least those of whom I have read) dwell more on individual experiences - the North Irish Horse is honoured to have one who served in North Africa and Italy. C Squadron's Trooper Jack Neilson MM and Bar was born in southern Ireland but settled in Northern Ireland after the war. He was one of the best known soldiers of the Regiment and, as well as his obvious courage, a man with a love for poetry and words - entitled 'The Observer', here is what he penned on 7 April 1943 while in action near Beja, Tunisia. At Ksar Masour Station in Wog Hut Watching Silent stand in Observation post, Field glasses focused on form opposite, Two miles of undulating greenness On skyline, red roofed white buildings, And nearer the broken fuselage of a Focke-Wulf. Intensely aware of singing birds, See love-sick storks, building nest. By soft breeze over valley drifting The sickly scent of death. Quietness suddenly shattered By Wheow - Wheow - Whumph! Of German Six Inch Mortar Hastily our Five Fives Quickly send screaming Their hazard messengers of death. In hut on far farm watching Stands silent some German boy, Wistfully thinking of Gamerisch-Partenkirchen. Brain war weary asking 'Why?' So, watching, invisible to each other Mutually wonder 'Why?' And the stork builds on. Should this topic be of interest I will post some Jack's other works. Perhaps others may have know other works that may be shared with members of the Forum.
Gerry Very interesting. Did Trooper Neilson MM and Bar enter any of the series of poetry competitions organized in 8th Army by the Army Educational Corps? I don't have my book to hand, so can't check. Can you post some more of his work anyway? The book I mention above is of Seventy-Two poems, written in Sicily and Italy between July 1943 and March 1944, and published with an introduction by Siegfried Sassoon. Here is one sample poem "To an Unknown British Soldier". It was written by a Lieutenant M J Disney. Of Disney I know nothing, other than he seems to have survived the war, as he does not appear on the CWGC Register. To an Unknown British Soldier We shall not stay to see the peace we won, Nor watch the world grow clean again from war; Find no forgetfullness of things we saw, In careless freedom under England's sun Let not the living mock the price we paid, Or bring dishonour on our half-done task; Hold not from us the only gift we ask - Assurance that the dead be not betrayed. When others feel the joy of lover's kiss Or gaze in gladness on the springtime flowers, Or hear the children laugh in playtime hours, We shall not grudge the happiness we miss. But let no hatred wake us from our peace, We gave our lives that enmity might cease. Very apt, now that poppies are on sale for November 11th.
Originally posted by BeppoSapone@Oct 21 2004, 10:14 AM Did Trooper Neilson MM and Bar enter any of the series of poetry competitions organized in 8th Army by the Army Educational Corps? I don't have my book to hand, so can't check. I don't know but will be most interested in find out if he did. Do you know when the competition was held? Can you post some more of his work anyway? Will do, I have one Jack wrote while in 36th General Military Hospital, Algiers, recovering from a seriously wounded arm - plus one or two filed away. Regards, Gerry
Will do, I have one Jack wrote while in 36th General Military Hospital, Algiers, recovering from a seriously wounded arm - plus one or two filed away. Regards, Gerry [post=28869]Quoted post[/post] [/quote] Gerry Looking forward to it. Regards Tony
Great subject Gerry I do love a bit of poetry, my favourite Is the book that Beppaspone spoke about, which is titled: Poems from the Desert, this is a collection of poems written By members of the Eighth Army while serving in the Western Desert from December 1942 to February 1943. There were some 403 poems submitted for a competition That the Crusader (Eighth Army weekly paper) ran in their Christmas 1942 edition and twenty six of these poems Were selected and are included in this book. Here is a little taster: They’re coming from the Highlands, They’re coming from the glen; From pits and workshop benches, Come Britain’s fighting men, From Empire’s far flung countries, To answer mother’s call: Proud heads aloft-in Honour’s Name, They march-Crusaders All! In response to Monarch’s summons, To all that we hold dear; For Freedom, Justice, Liberty- While Life is with us here; In the Name of God and Empire We rally to the call; We pledge our lives and all our strength And march-Crusaders All! We march in tens of thousands- All colours, race, and creed; Calm and strong, united Till tyrants’ slaves are freed. Courage then, brave peoples, For we have heard your call; We will not fail you, steel your hearts, We march-Crusaders All! F.Z.Smith Lieutenant (Regiment unknown - Serving with the Eighth Army) Unfortunately Trooper Neilson MM and Bar don't have any poems in this particular book but I am sure there is another book that was done for Italy maybe they could be in there.
As promised here is another of Jack Neilson's poems. African Victory Written 13 May 1943 while recovering from wounds in 36th General Hospital, Algiers. His tank was knocked out Friday, 30th April 1943 - the only one lost to a Panzer during the Tunisian Campaign. As a preface Jack wrote: "In the flush of Victory I noticed that every soldier in Hospital wore a wristwatch or ring, 'presents from loved ones'. One thought of the cost of victory, the dead at Sedjenane and Longstop, each dead soldier wearing some token of love and so representing not a mere individual, but a person whose manner of living influenced others, who thus became poorer because of that death. Thus victory for the soldier is not something to be lightly celebrated: to the soldier, victory and dead friends are bracketed together." Rommel's rout, Church bells peal gaily, Victory's price paid freely From Greenhill to Longstop - All the Medjerda Valley - From Bizerte to Tunis - Ours by conquest. Paid for yard by yard, With dead soldiers Men and boys Wearing wrist watches, Presents from loved ones. Through mud and through blood, To the green fields beyond. Beyond the green fields, And lurking round the bend Death, the inevitable friend Freedom's cost - Paid by us! Freedom's Torch - Yours to keep flaming! Remember the dead soldiers Men and boys, Wearing wrist watches Presents from loved ones.
Battle in Tunisia Written 10th April 1943. As a preface Jack Neilson wrote: "This poem written on Blackwatch Hill while sheltering under my tank from enemy shellfire, gives an accurate and fairly detailed account of a few hours' typical tank battle." Sleeping, blear-eyed, flaps furiously banging, 'Wakicc, wakiee, tour a.m., get cracking!' First light, faint Orange appears eastward Rev. to fifteen hundred, let clutch in, With clatter and clang of giant mowing machine The masculine monsters move ponderously forward Squadron sweeps line abreast across the plain, Through fields of luscious green Rustling wheat, ablaze with golden flowers Tracks clang furiously over rocky outcrop, And tank slithers to rest with broken track. Spanners and sledges flung furiously down, The sweating crew work swearing on the broken track, Suddenly fling flat for screaming shell, Twenty yards away freckled gunner kid Dead, lies inertly in a bloody heap. 'Grab his rifle, he won't need it again!' 'Get that brew of tea on!' Water quickly simmers on petrol tire. 'Throw the Compo1 in, and make it strong!' Ton and a half of broken track linked up 'Hey, we're moving; jump in!' Scramble into tank swallowing scalding tea Through lips sticky with four days' stubble, Cram sardines and bully into mouth Light up inevitable fag, eyes strain through visor Speeding over fields spangled red with poppies Flat out to hidden gully, slam on brakes, Forty tons balance gently, see-saw over. On skyline see Jerry Mark Four Tank 'Gunner, traverse left. Steady, you're on!' Telescope cross wires quickly, swing central 'That's got him—Yahoo Mahommed!'2 Commander's cry of boyish glee Quick rush to grab loot Creep cautiously uphill to hull down position Intently peering through periscope At changing world of four by two Over crest, screaming Stukas swoop Gunners with Besas blaze furiously Arid puff of bomb blast taps face, Raid over, taut nerves relax. 'Let's get another brew on!' And so the battle carries on. 1: Army tea, sugar and milk powder used tor making tea. 2: Originally the Battle Cry at the Paratroopers who were with'C'Squadron at Sedjenane, passed from them to us, and so generally to the Royal Armoured Corps. This poem is included in a collection published by the Salamander Oasis Trust ( a registered charity) in "From Oasis into Italy."
This gentleman is not famous, but I thought some of the readers would like to read his poetry. He was a WWII Combat Engineer. Memories of Bill Gentry Thanks!