On Becoming a Hermit, Sort of ... Day 55

Days 55

(Sunday, 10th May 2020)

Ten years ago, I opened the April 2010 edition of ‘The Oldie’ magazine and some advertising flyers fell out, one of which was from the Royal British Legion. It was promoting fundraising for the celebration, on 8th May, of the 65th anniversary of VE day 1945, nicknamed ‘VE65’. There was also an invitation to write a message on a triangular card “to our heroes of 1939-1945” and return it the the RBL.

This made me think of the eulogy for my Dad that I wrote for delivery at his funeral five years ago. He was an RAF fighter pilot in WW2 and flew the Spitfire, amongst many other aircraft. He was shot down early in the war, but mercifully survived. I also fell to thinking about the meaning of what it is to be a real hero with real courage. For me, he was a real hero, because after recovering his shattered confidence, he got back in the saddle again, in the glaring light and full knowledge of the high risks all WW2 fighter pilots took with their lives, each time they climbed into the cockpit, even of that iconic fighter plane.

I returned this poem in the envelope, with reference to it on the provided triangular ‘flag’ along with a donation for the RBL.

This poem is also dedicated to my Uncle John, a medical doctor, who like his younger brother, my Dad, joined the RAF, but tragically died in Ceylon following a plane crash when he selflessly tried to save the life of the pilot but ended losing his own; he was posthumously recommended by his senior officer for the George Medal, but my grandmother told them not to award it posthumously, rather save it for another, who survived and lived to receive the medal in person.

In writing this poem, my muse reminded me of the glorification of war in so many films (movies), of which I saw my fair share in the 1950's, which may have been post war, but their sentiment was still a little propaganda-ish, at least until films like Steven Spielberg's "Saving Private Ryan". So, I was minded to draw a clear line between the handsome heroes, cast in neon lights by Hollywood, and the raw reality of war.

"Think"

(for Real Heroes)

Think nothing of your movie heroes

plastic coated with perfect noses

chiselled jaws and smelling of roses.

Let them instead remind you of reality

a reality that is raw

that’s in your face and now and more

it’s deprivation pain and blood

and fear, real fear, a taste of mud,

of fire or brine and feel the sweat

that chills your skin like death and yet

just when faced with their mortality

real courage let them go again

and go again, and go again!

Think only of Real Heroes, then.

© 2010 John N Anstie

All rights reserved

Today's choice of music from Clemency Burton-Hill's "Year of Wonder" ... Piano Concerto No.2 in F major, Op.102 2: Andante by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-75). Compared with his other music, this is quite charming and beautiful and moving. He wrote it for his son, Maxim, who turned 19 years of age on this day in 1957.

However you may be affected by anything I've written here, do let me know by leaving a comment below or, if you prefer not to, talk to a loved one, a friend or someone you trust.