Forever...
Welcome to our interactive World War 1 timeline.
Use the arrows on the left and right of the screen to explore content from the official album of World War 1 commemorations, set within the context of key events from the Great War.
In Flanders Fields
written by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Listen
read by various Victoria Cross recipients
Army Form W. 3236
NOTICE PAPER to be sent to those who belong to the Army Reserve under the provisions of the Military Service Acts, 1916
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Surname:
Firstname:
Address:
You are hereby warned that you will be required to join for service with the Colours on the 26th October 1916
You should therefore present yourself at your nearest Recruiting Office on the above date, not later than 9 am, bringing this paper with you.
Signature WilliamBarnes
Date of Issue 12/10/1916
On 18th November 1916, a mother and father wrote a letter to their son, a soldier who was posted in France, asking when he'd be back for Christmas.
He was killed the day his parents wrote the letter.
(Click the images to view larger versions.)
Anthem For Doomed Youth
written by Wilfred Owen
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Listen
read by Sean Bean
Dulce Et Decorum Est
written by Wilfred Owen
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.
Listen
read by John Thomson
Forever: The Heroes' Stories
The official album of the World War One Commemorations
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