Broremann’s War
Spring,1945, German troops in his town were walking about not
carrying arms, they spoke to the locals in a friendly manner.
Looking back it was peace before the peace. Near Broremann's home
there was a tall house occupied by old non- commissioned officers,
middle-aged men in their thirties with children, gave the kids
chocolate and sweets (after the war the building was taken over by
Mormons) .
British troops arrived, put a canteen in a disused fish factory,
the German troops had surrendered. Broremann got white bread
with spam from the British. The Germans left by train; many
of the town´s people came to wave goodbye, there was no
dislike against the common soldiers, wrath was directed at the
local Gestapo who had betrayed their country by being crueler
than the enemy and by sporting rimless Himmler glasses.
Years later Broremann met a docker in Hamburg who had spent
five war years in his town. They drank together and declared
it had been a peaceful war.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Broremann The Farmhand
Broremann, the farmer worker.
Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Broremann The Fisherman
Broremann the Angler
On the pier where fishing vessels were tied up my brother
sat fishing all the while seagulls kept swooping and shrieking,
he blissfully ignored them. He had no hook at the end of his
line and when asked why he said, I don´t like to hurt the fish.
But crafty little Broremann was not as innocent as you may
think, he didn´t like fish, all those horrible tiny bones,
his mother had sent him down to the pier to try catch some
fish for lunch. He liked sausages with mashed potatoes and
stewed peas, now he could go home tell his mother fish didn´t
bite today, but made sure to put the hook on the line so his
mother could see he was really trying. An old fisherman gave
him two sardines wrapped in a newspaper, but wouldn´t you
know it the pair of sardines somehow slipped out of the paper
and made their way back to the sea.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Ghost Town
This town is becoming like a ghost town;
Many of our local shops are closing down.
Once upon a time, this town was really hopping,
But now people go elsewhere for their shopping.
The life from our town has been sucked out,
And nowadays there is hardly anyone about.
Local people go to other towns and cities:
That it has ended up this way, is a real pity.
The town's population is rapidly growing,
But trade in our shops is rapidly slowing.
Many units stand empty for years and years:
Owners found the rents were just way too dear.
We need some life breathed back into town;
We need to turn this situation back around.
Of help for new businesses, we need much more,
So that our town can be the place it was before.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Broremann The Boy
The boy was eight years old and pretended to have one leg
shorter than the other, by walking with one foot in the gutter
and the other foot on the pavement. He tried to run that way
but it was difficult lost his balance and fell. A strange boy
often alone dreaming about what to do, he had told his mother
he wanted to be an actor and play many roles and be everything
at once. Either that or to an opera singer be, famous, traveling
around the world. His mother didn´t think much of his plans and
anyway this was his last day in this town tomorrow he was being
sent to farm, that had cows, horses, and sheep. He had no say in
the matter his mother was sick and had to go to a sanatorium
He didn´t mind it so much liked horses and could be a cowboy but
he had to go to school to and the children was sure to mob him for
talking city like. Down at the docks a big ship was birthing she came
all the way from Conakry in Africa. The boy decided to be a sailor,
and walked home to tell his mother.
Broremann is best translated as “little brother”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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For fear of dropping the troops in the sea, the pilots tended to drop them too far inland - some of them actually in the British lines. The weapon containers often fell wide of the troops, which was another handicap that contributed to our excessive casualties.
quote by Kurt Student
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Our Small Town
Love going for walks around town
A small town a holler from the big city
The many old building lining the main street
Which by the way isn't main street that's a block away
From the small library to the high school a jot to get to
The sidewalks resemble the old boardwalks from yesteryear
The shops vary as the street winds to the highway
The country air blows thru the street full of manure
Good ole air, they say around here
The small diner with the local farmers dwell at
Talking of this year's events from farming to politics
The ladies at the sew shop talking gossip
It's amazing how time don't change as years pass
Every year the town picnic to the 4th July jamboree
To the harvest dance and everything in between
Small town people living the old time ways
Wishing every town was as good as it
Walking thru saying hey to neighbors all around
Can make everyday a good day
Seeing people in the park enjoying the kids play
The banner welcoming you to our small town
Small town America, loving it, living it
poem by Michael Peterson
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He Feels The Time Is Ripe
Where many do live for local renown
The ageing fringe dweller in the old country town
Has never played football with the local club
And always drinks on his own when he is in the pub.
Since he does not talk about the local club's latest loss or win
He remains an outsider and does not fit in
Though he has lived here for ten years as an outsider he remain
The status of a local he has yet to attain.
He feels a decade of his life enough to have spent here
He will move to the bigger town early next year
This not a town for one such as he an artist and a talented man
More suited to a footballer or a football fan.
In the old country town he does not have a friend
And his stay in the place is coming to an end
In his early to mid fifties his best days long gone
And he feels the time is ripe for him to move on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Price Of Freedom
Our freedom comes at a very high cost
Our children go and fight and some are lost
Trying to make sense of this grueling war
Who has really won, when tallies score
A life time of pain and an ocean of tears
No end in sight after fighting all these years
Are we winning or losing this life of fighting
Send more troops they say in writing
To send more troops, will this end this war
Or will more sons and daughters be washed to shore
Spend more money and recruit more men
Are we back to where we started once more again
There are no answers, the terrorism such a threat
They started with 911 and we will never forget
They plot against us, always conniving and sly
The USA and allies, you got your reply
They hate us for breathing and being a free nation
They hate us all, that's not Muslim relations
You terrorists better get used to it, we won't lay down
When you attack our country we will be coming to your town!
By Dogs4donna
© 2007 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Town And Country
Touched by a butterfly on my way home
Flying who knows where
Walking down that dusty road
Without a care
The sun was shining up in the country
And bells were ringing downtown
Clouds were moving slow and lazy
While I was kicking around
And feeling out the town and the country
Feeling out the town and the country
Up on the hill I got a better look
I watched the river run brown (watched the river run brown)
And then I heard those songbirds singing
The country sound
When I got home I sat in my kitchen
And turned the television on (turned the TV on)
The news wasn't good so I didn't listen
I started clicking around
Thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country
Thinking of the town and the country
In the morning everything will be the same
Open up your world (watch the children play)
In the sun or rain
Thinking of the town and the country
A thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Can...
If you can see the sun shining,
And listen to birds cheerfully chirping,
Seize that harmony in Nature
For it can bring peace to every creature...
If you can face work in bliss
And cause the children's smile,
Enjoy it as a blessed while
For it can bring you peace.
If you can take a sweet word
To those hearts in grievance,
That's peace you are breathing
Helping them with a better living.
If you can avoid troops on the ground,
Deployed for months, years, harshly,
You can feel your country healthy
And people in peace producing more around...
(June,2011)
poem by Maria C. Costa
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For three years now, our brave men and women in uniform have done everything their country has asked of them, yet President Bush still does not have a plan to win the peace in Iraq and bring our troops home.
quote by Marty Meehan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For if the Germans do not help defend the West, American and Canadian troops must cross the seas to do the job, and I venture to believe that the troops - if not the statesmen - regard this as an interference at least in their own domestic affairs.
quote by Arthur H. Sulzberger
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The Capture of Havana
'Twas in the year 1762 that France and Spain
Resolved, allied together, to crush Britain;
But the British Army sailed from England in May,
And arrived off Havana without any delay.
And the British Army resolved to operate on land,
And the appearance of the British troops were really grand;
And by the Earl of Albemarle the British troops were commanded,
All eager for to fight as soon as they were landed.
Arduous and trying was the work the British had to do,
Yet with a hearty goodwill they to it flew;
While the tropical sun on them blazed down,
But the poor soldiers wrought hard and didn't frown.
The bombardment was opened on the 30th of June,
And from the British battleships a fierce cannonade did boom;
And continued from six in the morning till two o'clock in the afternoon,
And with grief the French and Spaniards sullenly did gloom.
And by the 26th of July the guns of Fort Moro were destroyed,
And the French and Spaniards were greatly annoyed;
Because the British troops entered the Fort without dismay,
And drove them from it at the bayonet charge without delay.
But for the safety of the city the Governor organised a night attack,
Thinking to repulse the British and drive them back;
And with fifteen hundred militia he did the British attack,
But the British trench guards soon drove them back.
Then the Spandiards were charged and driven down the hill,
At the point of the bayonet sore against their will;
And they rushed to their boats, the only refuge they could find,
Leaving a trail of dead and wounded behind.
Then Lieutenant Forbes, at the head of his men,
Swept round the ramparts driving all before them;
And with levelled bayonets they drove them to and fro,
Then the British flag was hoisted over the bastions of Moro.
Then the Governor of the castle fell fighting sword in hand,
While rallying his men around the flagstaff the scene was grand;
And the Spaniards fought hard to save their ships of war,
But the British destroyed their ships and scattered them afar.
And every man in the Moro Fort was bayonet or shot,
Which in Spanish history will never be forgot;
And on the 10th of August Lord Albemarle sent a flag of truce,
And summoned the Governor to surrender, but he seemed to refuse.
Then from the batteries the British opened a terrific fire,
And the Spaniards from their guns were forced to retire,
Because no longer could they the city defend;
Then the firing ceased and hostilities were at an end.
Then the city of Havana surrendered unconditionally,
And terms were settled, and the harbour, forts, and city,
With a district of one hundred miles to the westward,
And loads of gold and silver were the British troops' reward.
And all other valuable property was brought to London,
The spoils that the British Army had won;
And it was conveyed in grand procession to the Tower of London,
And the Londoners applauded the British for the honours they had won.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Town & Country
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Touched by a butterfly on my way home
Flying who knows where
Walking down that dusty road
Without a care
The sun was shining up in the country
And bells were ringing downtown
Clouds were moving slow and lazy
While I was kicking around
And feeling out the town and the country
Feeling out the town and the country
Up on the hill I got a better look
I watched the river run brown (watched the river run brown)
And then I heard those songbirds singing
The country sound
When I got home I sat in my kitchen
And turned the television on (turned the tv on)
The news wasnt good so I didnt listen
I started clicking around
Thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country
Thinking of the town and the country
In the morning everything will be the same
Open up your world (watch the children play)
In the sun or rain
Thinking of the town and the country
A thinking of the town and the country
I was thinking of the town and the country (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just An Ordinary Fellow
His life revolves around work his mates and football
But his wife and children he seldom does talk of at all
Each evening after work he calls to the pub
Or else to the bar-room of the Football Club.
In his early to mid thirties he is well liked in the town
To have kicked five goals in the local Grand Final is his one claim to renown
And though his team did not win the flag he earned his local fame
With a best on ground display on a beaten side he made for himself a name.
His wife takes care of the children a boy of four and a girl of three
She is not well known in the town few as down to earth as she
So different from her husband she's never seen at the pub
And she is not a member of any local club.
He is a well liked character and in the town well known
And the local people say of him he is one of our own
Not a bad husband and father though better than him not hard to find
Just an ordinary fellow in his own way he is kind.
poem by Francis Duggan
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How do you tell troops who volunteered to fight for our freedoms that the country they fought for won't take care of them when they come back? In the time of war our troops and their families are supposed to be our number one priority.
quote by John Salazar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holocaust Latvia Begins
Holocaust Latvia begins
on June 22,1941 when
the German army invaded
the Russian Soviet Union;
and the Baltic States
of Lithuania, Latvia,
and Estonia which had
by Soviet military forces;
recently been occupied
after a proud period
of independence after
World War One finished.
Murders of Jews
Communists began
almost immediately
by Einsatzgruppen;
perpetrated by German
killer squads known
as Special Task Groups
Special Assignment Groups;
the German Security Police
Sicherheitspolizei or Sipo
the Security Service of the SS
the Sicherheitsdienst or SD.
The first recorded murders
were on the day after invasion
on the night of June 23,1941
in town of Grobina near Liepāja;
six Jews were killed
in the church cemetery
by Sonderkommando
1a members deployed;
with the 14th Army
Nazi German
Einsatzkommandos
were a sub-group;
of five Einsatzgruppen
mobile killing squads
up to 3,000 men each
composed of 500 to 1000;
officials of dread SS
Schutzstaffel (SS)
and Gestapo thugs
their vile missions;
the annihilation of Jews
Gypsies Soviet political
Commissars to kill Jews
all Polish intellectuals;
Romani, communists
NKVD collaborators
in captured territories
behind the advancing;
German front lines
Nazi occupiers
were also aided
by a unit of native;
Latvians known
as Arājs Commando
Latvian auxiliary police
Wehrmacht commanders;
bolstered the strength
of the Einsatzgruppen
with regular-army troops
whenever required.
Latvia July 29,1941
forty mental patients
from Lódz in Poland
are taken from hospital;
executed in nearby forest
July 31,1941 Hermann
Göring instructs SS Reich
Security Service chief;
Reinhard Heydrich
to evacuate eliminate
all European Jews
in German-held territory;
Göring's letter mentions
'complete solution'
to European Jewry
Jews purified in death;
July 1941 Germans
establish a Jewish
ghetto at Dvinsk Latvia
July-August 1941;
Jews are murdered
by the tens of thousands
throughout western
Soviet Union Lithuania;
Romania and Latvia
who are the murders?
German Einsatzgruppen
Romanian troops militia;
Ukrainian peasants
Lithuanian civilians
August 1941 German
slaughter of Jews;
at Cesis Latvia
is celebrated
by German troops
security police;
celebrate with
a Totenmahl
'death banquet'
August 1941;
in Belgium
collaborationist
military
organization;
Legion Wallonie
Wallonian Legion
is established
September 29-30 1941;
Babi Yar Kiev
Soviet Ukraine
33,771 Jews
killed in two days;
by SS and German
police units
November 30 and
December 8 1941;
at Rumbula forest
near Riga Latvia
25,000 Jews
killed in two days;
Einsatzgruppen
will murder
over one million
people in occupied;
territories the first
Nazi organized
policy mass killing
of European Jews.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also The Holocaust Files!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Thank God God Was On Our Side
When British Catholics were killing
German Catholics in World War I and II.
British Protestants Methodists Baptists
were busy killing German Protestants
Methodists Baptists in grand slaughter.
Do you think God supported the British?
Or do you think God supported Germans?
Or do you think God supported individuals?
Which country do you think enjoyed Divine Favour?
Or according to individual sins merit by merit?
Or do you think God meant it when God said.
Commanded created human race Thy Shalt Not Kill!
Do you think it might be about time we listened?
One just one among ten commandments can we keep?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dirty Old Town
I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed a girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Clouds a drifting across the moon
Cats a prowling on their beat
Springs a girl in the street at night
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
Im going to make me a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
Will chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
song performed by by Pogues
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Dirty Old Town
(ewan mccoll)
Found my love by the gaswork croft
Dreamed a dream by the old canalkissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old towni heard a siren from the dock
Saw a train set the night on firesmelled the spring on the sulfured wind
Dirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old townwere goin to take a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fireand well chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old towndirty old town, whoa-oh, dirty old town
And oh well chop you downoh, dirty, dirty, dirty old town
Dirty old town, dirty old townand oh whoa-oh dirty old town
Chop you down one of these days
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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