Tag Archives: historical narrative

Shackleton’s Christmas Dinner

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        Shackleton’s Christmas Dinner


Grey and white and


White and grey


ad infinitum


night


and


day ;


Scouring faces


battering bone


the ceaseless howl


of the bleak unknown ;


Across the Weddell Sea ice pack


driving the dog team


hauling three boats ,


trudging trudging


seven and a half miles ,


a week’s work ;


White and grey and


Grey and white


ad infinitum


day


and 


night.

HISTORIC FOOTNOTE:

SHACKLETON 1915

December 22 was kept as Christmas Day, and most of our small remaining stock of luxuries was consumed at the Christmas feast. We could not carry it all with us, so for the last time for eight months we had a really good meal - as much as we could eat. Anchovies in oil, baked beans, and jugged hare made a glorious mixture such as we have not dreamed of since our school-days. Everybody was working at high pressure, packing and repacking sledges and stowing what provisions we were going to take with us in the various sacks and boxes.



					

		
		
	


	

				

			
						

				Sarajevo :1914
			

										

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Lurking in the shadows


of ephemeral alleyways ,


a cipher ,a chimera flitting


between disillusion and disappointments ;


Nondescript , commonplace ,19 years old ,


a refugee fleeing from the earlier


failure to bestow a kiss of death on his intended ;


Along the route ,


bustling streets and boisterous thoroughfares gaily bedecked


with flowers and flags welcome the Royal motorcade ,


resplendent in their plumed cocked hats ,epaulettes and braid ;


A time , a chance , a kairos moment


that was lost re-emerges to be


re-taken ,ventured anew 


grasped with both trembling hands and


a desperate heart ,its consequences unforeseen ;


The smashing of Stephen’s Crown ,the fall


of Angels ,the ruination of Eagles amid


infernoes yet to be stoked ,yet to be lit ;


A nondescript commonplace 19 year old 


hefts the pistol ,a Browning .380 Model 1910 ;


He is standing some five feet away from


the reversing now stalled motor car ,


He is facing Ferdinand and the beloved Sophie ;


then the shots ring out ,


forever.


( Footnote : On June 28,1914 ,19 year old Gavrilo Princip,a Serbian nationalist fanatic

shot and killed the heir to the Austrian Throne,Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie.)








					

		
		
	


	

				

			
						

				Battle of Lutzen 1632:The fate of Von Pappenheim
			

										

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The fading salvation of the skills of a surgeon,

too far away for this desperate carriage,

a funeral without cortege to reach ;

Far away from fading grey tatters

of evening and battle’s stench,

How sweet the singing of “Te Deum”

for Hapsburg Imperial Eagle ascendant,

yet no bandages for staunching only

slivers and rags of your general’s coat;

drenched in a fever that wrenches “Santa Maria”

from your once reticent lips;

as numbness encroaches and blankets

you with the frost;

The adrenalin rythm relentlessly beating

as your Eagle’s wings once did ,

soaring across haunted fields of ripening corn

casual pillage for the eagles and their young;

soaring above firestorm gutted

churches ,barns and ricks,

the wretched poor succumbing to the

penance of your Imperial steel crucifix;

soaring over a catechism

of hooves clattering in courtyards,

impatient for you to recite orders demanding death;

The Eagle’s rythm frantic’ly beating

over this desperate carriage ,

like the wings of the angel of death;

reciting with you the Final Absolution,

as you succumb to its penance,

demanding your life.






					

		
		
	


	

				

			
						

				The Unknown Trojan
			

										

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The Anatolian sun shone bright

over Troy’s topless towers,

far from whose watchful gaze

you clashed with a foreign

soldier on that day;

Gleaming flashing blade thrusts

parried clashed and tore away

that stranger’s veil of immortality,

as your prowess sent him sprawling,

sprawling into Morpheus’ arms;

You made to bear away his

gilded helmet as a trophy,

it was Achilles there at your feet,

though you never even knew

as you fell into the

same forgetful sand;

your life-force soaking and blending

where later a braggart would stand,

on whose head Homer would place

his garlands of poetic praise

and save none for you;

Anonymous eidolon expiring,

you lie but cannot hear

Andromache lament nor Priam the gods berate,

as your life’s coin was spent

in unequal exchange of fate.


                 Footnote..

(an early work which I wrote around the same time as “1066 and all that”(originally “Norman Footslogger”) and “Marston Moor”,the common theme being,the participation and fate of the common soldier in what some view to be among History’s significant military encounters)






					

		
		
	


	

				

			
						

				1066..(And All That)
			

										

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Norman Footsloggers wading ashore

your boots brine-stained

your fears lost in the roar;

You’ve seen the Saxon high upon

the cliffs gazing down at

strangers in this strange land,

Norman Footsloggers malevolent

flotsam on deadlier sand;

Norman oaths shall carry this day,

it’s spillage of blood will verify

Duke William’s claim,

sanctify his deeds,

then a new history,

his story

will record the glory

and mark your graves

with a Norman Cross;

Norman Footsloggers aim your crossbows

like your serjeants taught you,

aim high at the Saxon and

though few of you’ll ever know it,

your Duke’s hybrid-speech

will become revered,

his codefied injustice

will be a model of Law

and the accounts books

of his army’s looting and theft

will sit alongside leatherbound

Histories of Rome on library shelves;

Norman Footsloggers wading ashore,

your boots brine-stained

and your fears lost in the roar.