Halloa! I fear this box may never provide a description that could ever truly satisify the definition of description.
In saying that, I'm 26, from Liverpool, with a passion for Liverpool FC, history, and Star Trek. Ahem.
I suppose I should note that I am so utterly staid that the colour beige has pursued legal action against me on a number of occasions. Damned legal obligations...
Oh, and this blog is quite probably PG-safe (I guess what constitutes PG is subjective, so probably) as I very rarely swear and don't post images of a fleshy nature.
Oh, oh, and I have a fascination (um, irrepressible obsession) with the two world wars, which is why they appear so prominently in my Tumblr. Macabre, perhaps, but it's principally centred on a desire to contribute, however insignificantly, to the "perpetuation" of those who suffered immeasurably in the wars.
A letter written by Lieutenant Ernest Emanuel Polack, 4th Gloucesters, to his parents three weeks before his death in July 1916 at age 23. His father was schoolmaster of Jewish House, Clifton College and his brother, Benjamin James, was killed in April 1916, in Mesopotamia.
My dear Mother & Father,
This is not an easy letter to write, and I have long refrained from writing it; but now that the Advance seems more than a remote possibility, and is in fact due to start to-morrow, I had better realise at once that I may not get through it. In fact, I consider it very unlikely that I shall get through it whole. Death has no terrors for me in itself, for (like Cleopatra) “I have immortal longings in me.” The prospect of pain naturally appals me somewhat, and I am taking morphia in with me to battle.
We are in Corps Reserve behind Hebuterne, and, should all go well, will not be called upon until the second night and then shall probably be resisting a German counter-attack somewhere near Beaumont-Hamel. But our services may be required at any moment.
I have little to leave except my Love and Gratitude….
For the rest - “If ‘tis not now, ‘twill be to come.” Our cause is a good one and I believe I am doing right in fighting. To you - Mother and Father - I owe all. The thought of you two - and of my brothers - will inspire me to the end. I often wish Albert was with me and miss him dreadfully.
“If we shall meet again, why then we’ll smile; If not - why then this parting was well made.” (Julius Caesar).
The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. (written in Hebrew)
Your loving son,
I will ask Mr. Ramsay (our Chaplain) to send you this if I fall.
Colchester, 1914: Of these six colourful British soldiers belonging to the 11th Royal Fusiliers, three were Jewish, all of whom were killed in action during the First World War. The fellow crouching on the left is Private S. Phillips; in the middle (under “B”) is Private S. Benson, son of Solomon and Phoebe, killed on 26 September 1916; to his right is Serjeant Philip Adler, M.M, son of Isaac and Caroline, who was killed on 17 February 1917.