What Place Is Besieged?
WHAT place is besieged, and vainly tries to raise the siege?
Lo! I send to that place a commander, swift, brave, immortal;
And with him horse and foot--and parks of artillery,
And artillery-men, the deadliest that ever fired gun.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Hurrah For The Light Artillery!
On the unstained sward of the gentle slope,
Full of valor and nerved by hope,
The infantry sways like a coming sea;
Why lingers the light artillery?
'Action front!'
Whirling the Parrotts like children's toys,
The horses strain to the rushing noise;
To right and to left, so fast and free,
They carry the light artillery.
'Drive on!'
The gunner cries with a tug and a jerk,
The limbers fly, and we bend to our work;
The handspike in, and the implements out-
We wait for the word, and it comes with a shout-
'Load!'
The foes pour on their billowy line;
Can nothing check their bold design?
With yells and oaths of fiendish glee,
They rush for the light artillery.
'Commence firing!'
Hurrah! Hurrah! our bulldogs bark,
And the enemy's line is a glorious mark;
Hundreds fall like grain on the lea,
Mowed down by the light artillery.
'Fire!' and 'Load!' are the only cries,
Thundered and rolled to the vaulted skies;
Aha! they falter, they halt, they flee
From the hail of the light artillery.
'Cease firing!'
The battle is over, the victory won,
Ere the dew is dried by the rising sun;
While the shout bursts out, like a full-voiced sea,
'Hurrah for the light artillery!
'Hurrah for the light artillery!'
poem by Anonymous Americas
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General: I attempted to take Williamsport yesterday, but found too large a force of infantry and artillery. After a long fight, I withdrew to this place.
quote by John Buford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Brave Page Boys
Air -- "The Fierce Discharge"
In the late rebellion war,
Grand Rapids did send out
As brave and noble volunteers
As ever went down south:
Among them were the brave Page boys --
Five brothers there were in all;
They enlisted and went down south,
To obey their country's call.
John S. Page was the eldest son --
He went down south afar,
And enlisted in the Mechanics,
And served his time in the war.
Fernando Page the second son;
Served in the Infantry;
He was wounded, lost both his feet
On duty at Yorktown siege.
Charles F. Page was a noble son --
In sixty-four did enlist,
And in the same year he was killed
In the fight of the Wilderness.
This brave boy was carrying the flag,
To cheer his comrades on.
He fought in the Eight Infantry;
Now he, brave boy, is gone.
'Tis said of this brave soldier boy --
'Twas just before he died --
Stood the flag standard in the ground,
Laid down by it and died.
The friends that loved this noble boy,
How sad were they to hear
Of his death on a battle field;
His age was twenty years.
James B. Page was a fine young man --
He went in the artillery;
He served his time with all the rest,
To keep his country free.
Enos Page the youngest brother --
Made five sons in one family,
Went from Grand Rapids, here.
His age was fourteen years --
When Enos Page went from his home,
He was only a boy, you know;
He stole away from his mother dear,
For he was bound to go.
She followed him to the barracks twice,
And took him home again;
She found it was no use -- at last
With friends let him remain.
In Eight Michigan Cavalry
This boy he did enlist;
His life was almost despaired of,
On account of numerous fits,
Caused by drinking water poisoned --
Effects cannot outgrow;
In northern Alabama, I hear,
There came this dreadful blow.
How joyful were the parents of
Those noble soldier boys,
There was one missing of the five,
When they returned from war.
The one that carried the Union flag
Lies in a Southern grave,
The other brothers came back home
To Grand Rapids, their native place.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Keep the Boot
My foot finally struck,
Upon you in a place...
I promised you it would land.
And with that imprinted there,
And in your mind...
I hope where 'something' cements,
Let us remember the day you dared.
And your eyes,
Glistening with a stare.
And opening wider...
As you were not prepared,
For the swift arrival of my foot...
Up in your der·ri·ère.
Are there any more bets you would like to place?
You should know by now,
I do all I can to keep my promises.
Keep the boot.
I have a new pair.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Your heaviest artillery will be your will to live. Keep that big gun going.
quote by Norman Cousins
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Our artillery has really been sensational. For once we have enough of something and at the right time. Officers tell me they actually have more guns than they know what to do with.
quote by Ernie Pyle
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I have observed that baseball is not unlike a war, and when you come right down to it, we batters are the heavy artillery.
Never had he found himself so close to those terrible weapons of feminine artillery.
A battery of field artillery is worth a thousand muskets.
quote by William Tecumseh Sherman
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I have never received a Farthing of Prize Money either for Artillery Ammunition or Vessels.
quote by Abraham Whipple
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By the last returns to the Department of War the militia force of the several States may be estimated at 800,000 men - infantry, artillery, and cavalry.
quote by James Monroe
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In Spite Of
gunfire...
artillery shells,
tanks, soldiers on foot....
the assault continues,
wave upon wave,
the assault on free speech,
free thought, free interaction....
the draining of blood
from the face of humanity....
the theft of name and identity....
the bartering of souls....
for change, against change....
yet the fire remains lit,
........in spite of!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Relief of Mafeking
Success to Colonel Baden-Powell and his praises loudly sing,
For being so brave in relieving Mafeking,
With his gallant little band of eight hundred men,
They made the Boers fly from Mafeking like sheep escaping from a pen.
'Twas in the year of 1900 and on the 18th of May,
That Colonel Baden-Powell beat the Boers without dismay,
And made them fly from Mafeking without delay,
Which will be handed down to posterity for many a day.
Colonel Baden-Powell is a very brave man,
And to deny it, I venture to say, few men can;
He is a noble hero be it said,
For at the siege of Mafeking he never was afraid.
And during the siege Colonel Baden was cheerful and gay,
While the starving population were living on brawn each day;
And alas! the sufferings of the women and children were great,
But they all submitted patiently to their fate.
For seven months besieged they fought the Boers without dismay,
Until at last the Boers were glad to run away;
Because Baden-Powell's gallant band put them to flight
By cannon shot and volleys of musketry to the left and right.
Then long live Baden-Powell and his brave little band,
For during the siege of Mafeking they made a bold stand
Against yelling thousands of Boers who were thirsting for their blood,
But as firm as a rock against them they fearlessly stood.
Oh! think of them living on brawn extracted from horse hides,
While the inhuman Boers their sufferings deride,
Knowing that the women's hearts with grief were torn
As they looked on their children's faces that looked sad and forlorn.
For 217 days the Boers tried to obtain Mafeking's surrender,
But their strategy was futile owing to its noble defender,
Colonel Baden-Powell, that hero of renown,
Who, by his masterly generalship, saved the town.
Methinks I see him and his gallant band,
Looking terror to the foe: Oh! The sight was really grand,
As he cried, "Give it them, lads; let's do or die;
And from Mafeking we'll soon make them fly,
And we'll make them rue their rash undertaking
The day they laid siege to the town of Mafeking."
Long life and prosperity to Colonel Baden-Powell,
For there's very few generals can him excel;
And he is now the Hero of Mafeking, be it told,
And his name should be engraved on medals of gold.
I wish him and his gallant little band every success,
For relieving the people of Mafeking while in distress;
They made the Boers rue their rash undertaking
The day they laid siege to the town of Mafeking.
For during the defence of Mafeking
From grief he kept the people's hearts from breaking,
Because he sang to them and did recite
Passages from Shakespeare which did their hearts delight.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Till the shooting ended
The fine press of binoculars against eye,
speech apparatus against mouth,
bodies camouflaged against the ground
made burning stars
fall from the sky.
Projectiles from G-5 howitzer canons
blasting from more that forty kilometres away
crossed the sky
in parabolas adjusted fine
and smashed enemy tank and armoured car
to pieces.
Flames throwing their tongues
orange-red to the sky,
enemy weapons pierced,
a commander with cigar in his hand bended,
enemy soldiers of whom
intestines rained down in pieces
in a moment where everybody
met the maker
and pools of red blood
and shot-out scrap
was all that marked the place of slaughtering.
l’Envoi
Till the shooting ended,
men stopped dying,
when too many were killed and pierced
and a war on the backside
of Africa was lost
and even the Russians knew
to forget about any victory
and the Cubans returned to Cuba
and never again Fidel Castro
could try and clench his fist round Africa.
[Reference: The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale were South African Reconnaissance Commandos (Recce’s) and artillery gun crews played a major role.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ain't No Place Like U
Ain't no place like U {x2}
I told all my friends don't be callin' me
Cuz there ain't nothin' that I wanna see
I called my job and quit workin' overtime
Cuz I've got somethin' that's been on my mind
CHORUS:
Cuz baby it's true, ain't no place like U
Cuz baby it's true, ain't no place like U
Don't want distraction so I'm puttin' on my machine
"Wrong number" - simple and clean
Go 2 my closet, pull out the dress
The one that makes U wanna lay your head upon my chest
CHORUS
Ain't no place, ain't no place {x2}
I've put this feelin' on hold 4 much 2 long
And now this feelin', it done got 2 strong
I need the body that makes it disappear
I need the body and I need it right here
It's true, ain't no place like U
Cuz baby it's true, oh, ain't no place like U
Send me 2 Marbella, London, Paris 2
Send me all around the world and when I'm through
I ain't seein' nothin' cuz there ain't no place like U
I told all my friends don't be callin' me
Cuz there ain't nothin' that I wanna see
I ain't seein' nothin' cuz there ain't no place like U
Ain't no place like U
Cuz baby it's true, ain't no place like U
song performed by by Prince
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Psalm 134
Daily and nightly devotion.
Ye that obey th' immortal King,
Attend his holy place;
Bow to the glories of his power,
And bless his wondrous grace.
Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
The God of Zion cheers our hearts
With rays of quick'ning grace;
The God that spread the heav'ns abroad,
And rules the swelling seas.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Sport Of Kings
I hate the horse races
Except when I'm winning
But it's always a bad sign when
Your horse starts strong and leads
The pack from the gate
He almost always falls behind by the time
He reaches the last straight-away
And the horse that started last
Gallops thru the group like his
Hooves are on fire
While his jockey whips his ass
All the way to the finish line
She left her overnight bag at my place
Where we drank a bit and horsed around
Before we left to meet up with her friends
I paced myself through the liquor cabinet
To be sure I’d be ready for an early morning romp
When we got back home
She had been talking all night to this
Thick-necked dude who got there late
With broader shoulders stronger haunches and a shinier mane
When one of her pals discreetly handed off a rubber like
They had just made a cocaine deal
I rolled my eyes and slugged
What was left in my glass
The last thing I remember that night before I blacked out:
I saw her leave with him
And slap his ass on their way
Out the door
She called me from his place the next afternoon
Audibly hungover and slightly out of breath
Her overnight bag still sat at the foot of my bed
She said she hoped I wasn’t mad
And I honestly wasn’t
We both knew this horse wouldn’t
Win, place or show
poem by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler
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On my left the shooting had the sharp explosion of the infantry artillery, on my right could be heard the sporadic cannon shots thundering from the front, and up above the sky was clear and the sun bright.
quote by Max Beckmann
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The moral effect of the thundering of one's own artillery is most extraordinary, and many of us thought that we had never heard any more welcome sound than the deep roaring and crashing that started in at our rear.
quote by Fritz Kreisler
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General Crossing
Its an old profession
Of subtle artillery.
Rough wheels meshing ---
Button out, button in.
The tall general will mine
A few bridges tonight,
Stroking soft machinery.
Fanfare at dawn
Courting green steel
Lined up for world war one
(two, three, four).
Its an old profession
Of subtle artillery.
Rough wheels meshing ---
On a landscape with no trees.
The tall general points
To the distance ---
Disconnects his power supply.
Writes a stiff note to his nearest
And dearest ---
He takes the battle plan
And contemplates his fly.
The tall general
Flies by the seat of history.
The tall general
Is crossing.
The tall general
He thinks inevitability.
The tall general
Is definitely crossing.
With spit and with polish ---
Time for desperate measures.
The pain in the forehead
From holding up to the pressures
Of life on the rim
Of the convenient alliance.
Out on the rim ---
Let me out on the rim.
The tall general will walk
Across the compound
With his briefcase and i.d.
Later theyll post him
Seemingly missing ---
Hes gone to be a generalski.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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