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originally posted by: KROandSOTV
a reply to: masqua
What utter tripe you spout,Britain and Germany competing for dreadnoughts wrong.
France helped Russia build a railway to put troops on the border with Germany wrong,it was for iron ore coal and minerals and it was built years before the outbreak of ww1.
Cant be arsed to argue with you as this thread is about the fallen,you know the millions that died on both sides of the Great War as it is known.
The naval race between Germany and Great Britain between 1906 and 1914 created huge friction between both nations and it is seen as one of the causes of World War One. In 1906, Britain launched the first dreadnought - a ship that meant all others were redundant before its awesome fire power.
However the Russian mobilization plan relied in part on railroads that had yet to be built – which is why France was glad to provide her Russian ally with literally billions of francs in loans for railroad construction, including huge sums earmarked for ten railroads with primarily military purposes – specifically speeding Russian war mobilization. Indeed, by 1914 France had loaned the Russian government and government-backed industry a majestic 10.5 billion francs, or around 3.4 billion rubles – four-fifths of Russia’s total foreign debt of 4.23 billion rubles. (This wasn’t pure charity, of course. According to one estimate, French bondholders made six billion francs from their Russian holdings from 1889-1914).
originally posted by: Sinter Klaas
The great war was not the first world war actually,...
originally posted by: masqua
I have respect for individual instances of genuine heroism by those who placed their lives at risk to save the lives of others.
I feel nothing but sorrow for the millions cut down by machine guns and artillery, regardless of which side they fought on.
I despise the political monsters who set the stage for that war.
by Joyce Kilmer
In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet
There is a new-made grave to-day,
Built by never a spade nor pick
Yet covered with earth ten meters thick.
There lie many fighting men,
Dead in their youthful prime,
Never to laugh nor love again
Nor taste the Summertime.
For Death came flying through the air
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair,
Touched his prey and left them there,
Clay to clay.
He hid their bodies stealthily
In the soil of the land they fought to free
And fled away.
Now over the grave abrupt and clear
Three volleys ring;
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear
The bugle sing:
"Go to sleep!
Go to sleep!
Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell.
Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor,
You will not need them any more.
Now at last,
Go to sleep!"
There is on earth no worthier grave
To hold the bodies of the brave
Than this place of pain and pride
Where they nobly fought and nobly died.
Never fear but in the skies
Saints and angels stand
Smiling with their holy eyes
On this new-come band.
St. Michael's sword darts through the air
And touches the aureole on his hair
As he sees them stand saluting there,
His stalwart sons;
And Patrick, Brigid, Columkill
Rejoice that in veins of warriors still
The Gael's blood runs.
And up to Heaven's doorway floats,
From the wood called Rouge Bouquet,
A delicate cloud of buglenotes
That softly say:
Comrades true, born anew, peace to you!
Your souls shall be where the heroes are
And your memory shine like the morning-star.
Brave and dear,
Shield us here.