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[rosiedoes]

Seeing as I'm bored...

The problem with LJ: we all think we are so close, but really, we know nothing about each other. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away. Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don't know about you!

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[rosiedoes.livejournal.com]

My favourite books: Jarhead by Anthony Swofford (also my favourite film); Notes from A Small Island, by Bill Bryson; Band of Brothers by Stephen E.Ambrose (I have the jumpwings of the US Airborne Paratroopers the book - which is a true story - follows, tattooed on the back of my neck). The military books are because the military is just something that has always moved me. I was going to go into the RAF at 16, but was eventually unable. I spent four years in the Air Training Corps, before that, learning to fly and being prepped for service.

Band of Brothers, set toward the end of WWII, and Jarhed, set in the Gulf War, are such deeply contrasting stories. The last Good War - the last war which felt as though it had true moral foundation, with its honourable and humble every-day men, fighting with their brothers for the world we live in today - versus the oil war of the early 1990s, and the tedium and frustration of career marines who are brainwashed to believe in what they do.

I would definitely recommend reading or watching both, if you can.

As for my favourite poem, there is only one I ever remembered - ever memorised - and that I first heard on another war movie, based in fact - Memphis Belle. The plane the film is about is my all-time favourite aircraft evereverver; the B17 Flying Fortress. An absolutely amazing craft (see icon).

The poem itself was 'An Irish Airman Forsees His Death', by W.B. Yeats. I'll type it from memory.

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above.
Those I fight I do not hate,
Those I guard, I do not love.

My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor;
No likely end could bring them loss,
Or leave them happier than before.

Nor law, nor duty bade me fight;
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds.
A lowly impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds.

I balanced all, brought all to mind.
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind,
In balance with this life, this death.