the-second-world-war

Americans: information junkies or just users of facts?

“It turns out Americans have been googling since the eighteenth century.” Who would’ve thought? Author James W. Cortada delves into the history of the United States and analyzes how it has always been a nation of information.

Image credit: Iphone by JESHOOTS. CC0 Public Domain via Pixabay. 

Saw a friend post this to Facebook, without a source and without a name for the quote, but the observation is relevant:

“American liberalism is the belief that any Democrat elected president will be constrained by all kinds of institutional checks and balance that will prevent them from getting anything done, held simultaneously with the belief that any Republican elected president will be able to dismantle every government program built since the Second World War and fundamentally transform the country into a fascist dystopia with the stroke of a pen.”

10

Do you think that this world is gonna be a better place after the war?

Watch the official trailer for Ithaca, Meg Ryan’s directorial debut based on Pulitzer Prize-winning author William Saroyan’s 1943 novel The Human Comedy, a coming-of-age story starring Alex NeustaedterSam Shepard, Hamish Linklater, Jack Quaid, with Ryan and Tom Hanks.

When his older brother leaves to fight in the Second World War, fourteen-year-old Homer Macauley takes on a job as a bicycle telegraph messenger to provide for his widowed mother, his older sister and his younger brother. Homer delivers messages of love, hope, pain and death to the good people of Ithaca, but soon must grapple with a message that will change him forever.

The Wind Chapter One- The Meeting

The second World War took the world by storm. Sons, fathers, brothers, husbands, boyfriends, cousins suited up and were recruted for war. Sisters, daughters, mothers, wifes, girlfriends mostly stayed home and produced weapons and whatever their soldiers needed.Where ever you would go, you could see war propagandha and posters who spoke againts the Nazi movement, anti- fashism… It was a time where the world dependet on the anti-fashist.

In February of 1944 a 18 year old boy named Harry E. Styles recived a letter that he was recruted and he had been transported to a base near London. At least it was close his childhood home. He said his farewell to his mother and sister and prayed that he would see them again. At the train station he could see his mothers small hand waving at him with her favourite red scarf. His eyes never shifted from her hand. The red streak became smaller and smaller until it faded into view.

When he finnally had arrived, he was placed in a tent with 3 other guys. There was an Irish blond guy, he drank too much whiskey for his own good and had a strange sense of humor. His name was also odd, but it suited him sort of. Then there was a really sweet and understanding guy named Louis, he had his sons picture in a locket around his neck and showed it to everyone. And also, there was Liam, he was older and mature, he had already fought in some batles. After him joined a guy whose name was Ed and he carried a small guitar on his back. As they were trying to get to know each other, a loud, male voice, seasoned with an American accent interupted their small talk.

-ALRIGHT YOU IDIOTS, GET THE FUCK OUT OF YOUR TENTS AND COME TO THE TRAINING GROUNDS!!-

As they stepped out and lined up, a tall man came and he was followed by a blonde lady and man in a lab coat. The three of them stood there in silence for a minute, the man stepped out and said

-I am colonel William Smith, for my friends Will but for you I am colonel Smith. I’m the commander of this base for a reason. Now, some ground rules. You disobey me, you die. This is war. Cassualities will be everywhere. So get used to it. Now, no girlfriends, no sexual intercourse, no alcholol and ciggarettes…“

As he was talking, Harry’s gaze slipped to the blonde next to him. She was standing in front of him. She was an elegant and tall woman, probably slightly older than him. Her lips were cherry red and her her was up in a simple hairstyle, but he wasn’t captivited by that, what caught him were her pale blue as ice eyes. They may have been the same colour as ice, but they where not cold, the looked like a wind was blowing out of them, pulling him into the beautiful blue. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, hoping that the wind would stop, but when he opened, the blue wind blew into the warm green and that was it, he was taken by the sky dipped storm. He could feel the wind in his bones and around him, pulling him closer to her.

-Oi, mate, you’re drooling – whispered Ed into his ear. He raised his hand to wipe his mouth and he realised that she was staring at him. He felt the crimson brush up his cheeks, but thankfully a dochebag decided to yell

-Oi, colonel Smith, who is this sweetheart next to you?-

Now she raised an eyebrow and her cherry lips turned into a frown. Her hands where on her hips. The man in the lab coat gulped. Colonel Smith inhaled deeply.

-This is agent Swift. I suggest that you don’t irritate or vex her, you will die-

Agent Swift… It suited her. She wore a olive green uniform, she had some badges on her chest and s oozed confidence and strenght.

-She works for something that I can’t tell you about, but that does not matter right now. This here is doctor Hiddleston. He is our main medical examiner and in half an hour you will report to his tent so you can get a check up. I assume that none of you are capable of using s firearm so we gonna train….-

Harry’s thoughts shifted again to the blonde lady.  What was her first name? Maybe Lucy? Or Ethel? And what was she doing here? How did a aprox. 22 year old woman end up here? But at the end of the day, he did not care.  Unfortunaly for him, a private cam to her and whispered something, she nodded and left.

As they were walking towards the medical tent, Taylor was absetmindely talking with the soldier. The poor guy was was stuttering and he’d always call her „ma’m“ . At the age of 22 she accomplished to become a special agent which in common language meant spy. After her last mission in Germany, she was injured and needed to stay in the base. She recowered as usuall but there were no new tasks. They told her to wait, so there was she, a month stuck in training and recruting new soldiers.

She could feel a wind blowing around her, kissing the trees, touching the tents, carresing her hair and sweeping her bangs to the side, she suddenly caught herself thinking about the guy who was staring at her in awe a minute ago. She never had someone look at her like that. But he looked like bad news. She entered the tent and greeted the nurses. Karlie and Cara, two opposites. The wild and bold Cara and the sweet and motherly Karlie.

-How are the boys? Are they cute and still have baby teeth?- Said Cara while packing some medications, Karlie just laughed and they both continued their work.

-The reason why we called you here is that somebody has been stealing medicine from us. I don’t know for how long, but we need you to put and end to it. It’s unacceptable.-

-Of course, Karlie, I will help you with this.  Is there anything else?-

-No, oh, they there are! Cara, the boys are here!- Taylor saw him and the ginger from a minute ago going first. Dr Hiddleston openned the files and red :

-Harry E. Styles, 18, you are in good health, have no history of mental illness..-

-No, sir, no that I know-

-Don’t call me sir, I’m a doctor, not a colonel or major. Now take of your shirt so that nurses Delevingne and Kloss can inspect you-

He took of his shirt and noticed agent Swift staring at him. He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow. As we has sawouring the moment dr Hiddleston smiled at blue eyed lady:

-You should sit down, agent Swift. I feel like a terrible gentleman if a lady was standing while I was sitting, please- he pointed towards the chair next to him.

-Oh no thank you, dr Hiddleston.  I should probably go because I have to help colonel Smith with the paperwork  –

She had a sweet voice, an American accent. Her voice sounded like a pretty bird to him. That’s what he’s gonna call her, Pretty bird. Until he finds out her name.

And so she left, walking slowly,wraping her arms around her self. The wind was still blowing, she could feel it. Get a grip of yourself, missy, she thought. But she couldn’t. She could feel the wind touching her and sweeping her away. She inhaled deeply and entered the tent. This is going to take her down…

New post (HMS ALAMEIN) has been published on Navy, Military and Marine with JC HMS Alamein (D17) was a Later or 1943 Battle-class fleet destroyer of the British Royal Navy. She was named in honour of the Battle of El Alamein, which took place in 1942 during the Second World War, between Commonwealth forces and the German Afrika Korps.
Alamein was built by R. & W. Hawthorn, Leslie & Company Limited on the Tyne. She was launched on 12 May 1945 and commissioned on 20 March 1946.


 

Check this out on Google+
Like this:Like Loading…

9

The Warsaw Uprising in colour

“Warsaw Uprising” is a film made entirely from documentary materials of the original chronicles.

It tells the story of the Warsaw Uprising of 1944 through the eyes of a US airman, escaper from the Nazi Stalag camp and two young reporters, cameramen for the Bureau of Information and Propaganda of the Polish Home Army. Their mission: documenting the Uprising by shooting newsreels for the “Palladium” cinema. Looking for the right shots, they go deeper and deeper – literally and figuratively – into the heart of the Uprising. Traumatic truth becomes obvious. Aware of being witnesses of indescribable events, they realize their duties: to document  them and preserve the rolls of film at any cost…

Source: here.

6

Polish poets killed in the Warsaw Uprising

1. Krystyna Krahelska (24 March 1914 – 2 August 1944)
2. Krzysztof Kamil Baczyński (22 January 1921 – 4 August 1944)
3. Leon Zdzisław Stroiński (29 November 1921 – 16 August 1944)
4. Tadeusz Gajcy (8 February 1922 – 16 August 1944)
5. Józef Szczepański (30 November 1922 – 10 September 1944)
6. Jan Romocki (17 April 1925 – 18 August 1944)

(Two other soldier poets, Andrzej Trzebiński and Wacław Bojarski, were killed in 1943).

*

Apparently, the Polish nation is destined to shoot at the enemy with diamonds…
(Stanisław Pigoń)

*

I loved like you now but I was given
a heart too small for futile loving
because my time that you give names to
was marred by raging death and crippling terror.

(…)

A mossy wall stands guard nearby
over the peace of those with honest faces
who measured love with blades of weapons,
trusting their hands, and who have died.
Their simple names will cast a shadow
on mocking tombstones; one still can hear
the sounds of marching, swinging bullets –
the graves and cradles of the fallen.

(from “To You in the Future” [„Do potomnego”] by Tadeusz Gajcy)

(the quote and excerpts translated by me)

Czesława Kwoka (15 August 1928 Wólka Złojecka – 12 March 1943 Auschwitz) was a Polish Catholic child who died in the Auschwitz concentration camp at the age of 14. She was one of the thousands of child victims of German World War II crimes against Poles. She died at Auschwitz-Birkenau, in Poland, and is among those memorialized in the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum indoor exhibit called Block no. 6: Exhibition: The Life of the Prisoners

2

HISTORY MEME | 2/8 objects: the Amber Room

The Amber Room was a complete chamber decoration of amber panels backed with gold leaf and mirrors, sometimes dubbed the “Eighth Wonder of the World” due to its singular beauty. It was designed by Andreas Schlüter at the beggining of 18. century, crafted by Danish master craftsman, Gottfried Wolfram with help from the amber masters Ernst Schacht and Gottfried Turau from Danzig. Incredible and unusual art piece, the only one of this kind in the world.

It was presented to Peter the Great and moved to Russia in 1716. Stolen by Nazi Germany during the Second World War and evacuated to Königsberg, it was seen last time in 1944. The whereabouts of the Amber Room remains unknown till today, which makes it the most precious lost treasure. Its mystery is continously inspiring both writers and those who are still looking for the room, believing that it survived the war, either hidden in some mines or having sunk in the Baltic Sea.

( x )