As part of Listowel's Military Weekend 2014 Listowel (Caen) was captured by German forces on Saturday and the citizens arrested and taken off to await execution on Sunday.
On Sunday we were all back in The Square to see what would happen.
The Germans have taken over and moved their tank into a defensive position.
The prisoners are led out to their doom.
A huge crowd has gathered to see the action.
A troop of French Canadians arrive to the rescue.
The fog of war was a phrase that referred to the difficulty of making decisions in the midst of the smoke and the din of the battlefield. The fog on Saturday was real as well as metaphorical.
We are deafened with firing and blinded by smoke.
Germans are falling fast. Some are surrendering and being taken prisoner.
The French and Canadian flags are raised. It's all over.
Great stuff! Well done everyone!
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Some of those who organized the tattoo
Jim Halpin, Damien Stack and John O'Sullivan
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Tirelessly keeping Listowel tidy
Mary and Joe were out bright and early setting up huge bins and trying to keep the town litter free.
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Something completely different
In my searching through the internet to bring you things that might be of interest, I recently came upon a page from Castleisland Race Walking Club. It had these great old photos of Castleisland.
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| Confirmation Boys, Castleisland 1971 |
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All for charity
This is Frank Greaney. Frank is a kind of one man fundraiser for the Nano Nagle school. Frank has seen at close range the great work that the school does and he has decided to do what he can to help them out financially. Frank is appealing for old phones or old coins. The old phones can be exchanged for iPads for the pupils and the old coins can be turned into cash at the Central Bank.
If you have old unwanted phones or coins you can leave them into the Nano Nagle school or give them to Frank anytime.
While I was chatting to Frank, he told me of an interesting Greaney he has recently been in touch with. This man is a more famous Greaney. He is
Mark Greaney a thriller writer who has co laborated with Tom Clancy as well as writing books himself.
While Mark's Irish ancestry came from Cork rather than Kerry, he might still like a visit to this literary town someday. Writers' Week take note!
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Jet Stack, dancer, musician and poet
This is a poor quality image of the late Jet Stack who wrote the poem I feature today. If anyone has a better picture, I'd be glad to post it.
The
Banks at Sweet Scartlea
The
sky is clear, a gentle breeze.
The
sun is in the west.
The
furze in bloom, a pigeon cooing.
Quietness
peace and rest.
By
the river side, where swallows glide.
What
beauty there I see.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide.
By
the banks of sweet Scartlea.
The
thrush on the hawthorn bush
singnotes,
so loud and clear.
The
blackbirds flutter through the briars.
Sound
warning notes of fear.
The
river Feale, flows gently
on its way
to join the sea.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide
By
the banks of sweet Scartlea.
The
music of the water
as it ripples on
its way.
The
rabbits coming out to feed.
The
smell of new mown hay.
The
fragrant scent of woodbine.
The
hum of a bumble bee.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide.
By
the banks of sweet Scartlea.
The
graveyard in the distance,
its walls of
whitish grey.
An
old man climbing o're its stile.
For
some poor soul to pray.
The
otters paddle through the ford,
Where
trout and salmon spree.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide.
By
the banks at sweet Scartlea.
The
sun is set, the grass dew wet,
The
stars begin to shine.
The
air is pure, the blind bat lure.
The
morrow will be fine.
The
boys at the crossroad gather
with
hearts light and carefree.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide.
By
the banks of sweet Scartlee.
As
darkness falls there's peace for all
The
moon of a reddish brown
To
the east appears above the hill
That
overlooks the town.
The
stars they twinkle brightly
no
more that I can see.
As
I take a stroll on an eventide.
By
the banks at sweet Scartlea.
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Youth Theatre
It's great to see Listowel's young thespians tackling this demanding play. They deserve support.
