Kym & Heather paint Melbourne Red. It will never be the same

[Heather]

WHAT????

[Kym]

... you said a naughty word ... umm ahhhh ....

[Heather]

It's not a naughty word. It's a medical fact of life! Read about WW1 soldiers in Egypt and France - it was rampant - get it RAMPant! Oh, I'm good today!!

[Bob Pacey]

Heather just what are you insinuating???

Anyway the rash is all but gone now


RAMP

[Heather]

I agree Marty. They were young men, often still teenagers, being sent off to die. You can't blame them one bit. I once applied for the war record of a WW1 soldier and to my surprise he had had VD. I had to keep it a secret though because at the time one if his (then very elderly) daughters was still alive. Attitudes change with the generations.

Heather

[manfredvijars]

Interesting turn in the thread. If I can echo Marty and Heather's posts, I wrote a lyric a little while ago (a 'sanitised' version has since been recorded),

Here is the 'unsanitised' version ...

PLAY CLARE De LUNE or The DIGGER’S LAMENT
(c) 2007 M. Vijars

The Paris streets in evening light
Show a soft and gentle sight
music floats upon the night
.... Worlds away from mayhem

A three day pass reprieve to me
my refuge is a drunken spree
I need to grasp normality
.... far from bloodied trenches

She stands beside a dim lit door
and beckons me - I can't ignore
Her soft brown eyes - a common whore
.... I pay her for her favours

We step inside her barren room
Her gramophone plays "Clare De Lune"
Arm in arm we hum in tune
.... I stumble while we're dancing

.... Play for me please, Clair De Lune
.... I long to hear a gentle tune
.... I'll be returning all too soon -
.... tonight, let War be over.

Skin so soft - robe that shields
breasts of silk - her chemise yields.
I am used to harsher fields
.... where softness is a stranger

My awkwardness she takes from me
we hold each other hungrily
and strive to reach our ecstasy
.... The thrusting quells my anger

.... Play for me please, Clair De Lune
.... I long to hold that gentle tune
.... I'll be returning all too soon -
.... tonight, let War be over.

I fall asleep within her arms
Resting far away from harm
sweet repose without alarm
.... Tonight the war is over.

With the dawn we are awake
I can't control this nervous shake
she sees me tremble - feels me quake
.... She holds me oh, so tender.

.... Play for me please, Clair De Lune
.... I can't release that gentle tune
.... I’m returning all too soon -
.... Now the night is over.

Spilling drink from shaking flask
courage downed put on my mask
Battle is a daunting task -
... tenderness retreating.

.... Play that song oh, Clair De Lune
.... Let me keep that gentle tune
.... I’m returning far too soon -
.... now my Peace is over.

.... ... let the War be over.
---

[Dave Smith]

Yes Manfred a strange line for this thread, two of our lovelies go to Melbourne and the next thing we are talking about "VD" hmm strange.

TTFN

[Heather]

I remember this poem Manfred and it actually sprang to mind during the discussion. It is a poignant scene and is beautifully written.

Three brothers (Albert, Fred and Ralph) all enlisted at the same time -21st battalion. Albert didn't return and Fred was continuously going AWOL. He was always in trouble.

Albert died in France from wounds he received from schrapnel in the leg. Apparently he saved the piece of metal and sent it home. Not sure if this is fact or family legend. Possibly fact, because the 95 year old gentleman who related the story was a younger brother. Anyway, Albert consequently died of gangrene. This after just returning to the field for treatment for trench foot. What those boys went through! Ralph seems to have coped when he returned and joined the police force. Fred became an alcholic and went to pieces each ANZAC day.

Heather

[Heather]

Well it wasn't me who mentioned a sailor with a girl in every port.... Ya gonna do those sorts of things you're asking for trouble!

Why aren't you working Martyboy? Get back to work. And Dave get back to packing your bags. Trouble makers!

[mummsie]

Whoa, thats a heavy one Manfred, well written.

Sue