we are remembering that they came in late.

Stop






Posting

No, no. YOU are the one that needs to stop. Pyro just need to reprioritize his thoughts and ideas with a different approach to explaining them so he doesn't offend anyone.

[quote="Jin-Roh":da5dc]No, no. YOU are the one that needs to stop. Pyro just need to reprioritize his thoughts and ideas with a different approach to explaining them so he doesn't offend anyone.[/quote:da5dc]

Not really. He needs to unplug his fucken keyboard.

I really hope you get hit by a car. That'd totally make my day.

Seriously. Why arent you dead yet?

[quote=1080jibber][quote="[DAS REICH] Blitz":c6306]LEST WE FORGET

rip ww1 veterans annoy:[/quote]There are no more WW1 (Canadian) veterans this year 2005, they have all died.
[/quote:c6306]

[url="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surviving_Veterans_of_the_First_World_War"]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surviving_ ... _World_War[/url]

duke proctor lives like half an hour away from me, he has great great grand kids and shit

Wilfred Owen's poem in my opinion is best suited for the occasion, in flanders field is over-rated...my opinion, so don't start going crazy. Wilfred Owen died 3 days before the end of WW1, the worlds most costly and useless war to date. I am not a cynicist of rememberance day, I held my moment of silence like most people. I am merely speaking out truths of WW1.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.


Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.


In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.


If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori. (DULCE ET DECORUM EST - the first words of a Latin saying (taken from an ode by Horace). The words were widely understood and often quoted at the start of the First World War. They mean "It is sweet and right." The full saying ends the poem: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - it is sweet and right to die for your country. In other words, it is a wonderful and great honour to fight and die for your country)

Rest in peace to all the vets of any nation and war, who fought, died, and lived.