Roys Dog.

Roy wasnt the sharpest tool in the box , he was however possesed of an innate cunning and an eye to the main chance! He was a cook in the local hospital and discharged his responsibilities with varying degrees of efficiency governed mainly by the ammount of alchohol consumed the previous night. He had a casual approach to food production and it was a wonder that the innocent victims of his culinary vandalism , the patients , survived his depradations as they did .
He turned in one morning twenty minutes late as usual and noted with some alarm that his mate Freddy was missing from his usual place at the other end of a broompole that was used to agitate the 50 plus gallons of grey porridge that was the early offering to the unfortunates in the wards.
The porridge was bubbling in the vast steam boiler but without Freddies attentions with the broompole was full of clods and lumps and sticking alarmingly to the bottom of the boiler!
Bloody hell thought Roy, wheres Fred? He asked John the gobbler who was quite interested in Roys plight , "gone orf with the tom tits" said John with a sly grin cocking his head towards the admission room down the corridor. Hmmmm , thought Roy good ruse that, and made a mental note to avail himself of this skive at the earliest opportunity.
A week to the day later saw Roy down at the admission room clutching his belly and groaning and describing his condition to an unsympathetic Doctor Raj who had heard it all before and had Roy subjected to an intrusive examination for no good reason other that that he  , Raj , Could.
Roy was alarmed by this development and hoped that that was the only indignity he would have to suffer. Raj swept out with his coat billowng around him shouting "Three negatives before he comes back" The nurse who seemed quite amused by Roys embarasment Was preparing three tubes in which were long sticks with cotton wool on the end. She described to Roy the process of obtaining a swab test and dismissed him with a face like an Easter island statue!
Later that afternoon in the pub , Roy was relating this tale to his mates and a jaded barmaid who told him that they could tell all sorts of things from this indelicate test , "OOOOh yes!" she said " all about yer habits and what y' do and how much beer y' drink and everything" Winking broadly at him.
Roy was shocked , he thought about the likely revelations with a sense of foreboding as he sat in front of the fire surveying the swab . Then, as he rested his feet on his mothers dog which had sought out the warmest place to lie , Inspiration struck him! He uncorked the swab and lifting the sleeping dog's tail he inserted the first swab into the startled animal whipping it smartly out as the dog growled and snarled at him , but, the job was done and Roy popped it back in the tube with satisfaction.
That should get me a week or so off he thought as he submitted the first swab to the Easter island nurse with a smug grin and waltzed off to the pub to continue his leisure.
It was when he returned with the second swab that he became aware that all was not well. "Easter island " looked even graver than usual and ushered him into a cubicle giving him a green robe and telling him to leave his clothes in a big black plastic bag and rushed off peering at him over her shoulder as she scuttled away
 "Calling Doctor Raj--Calling Doctor Raj" echoed from the tannoy. Roy felt a mounting panic as the tersness of the tannoy sank into his befuddled brain . Standing in his green robe he tried to cover his bottom as "Easter island" poked her head in to see he was still there. Then his heart sank as two big male nurses with masks on and white rubber aprons  hoisted him on to a trolley as Raj watched from a safe distance shouting "Take him off to isolation !"
There then followed a nightmare of intrusive medicine where every fluid was extracted by masked sinister figures and several procedures conducted that would have made the SS. baulk. Dignity was a distant memory and his bottom felt as if he had been assaulted with a pineapple.
Blinking through his dazed condition he wondered what could possibly have afflicted his mothers dog and vowed that if he ever got out alive----That dog was going!!©

Cheap flights!!!!! Cant dispute it!

How many people will recognise this scenario--Anyone recognise a particular airline here??     

Ed Reavy tunes From Erin....The bowing is really good

The return from France. We've all heard it --When will they ever learn, sums it up, but this is from tales of the fellside--From the horses mouth! The soldier s are -From the top Dick Bentham ; Jackie Bentham ; Eddy Bentham.

"I was awaiting orders stood down leaning on my motorbike it was a BSA. not a good one --The FN's were better but it worked OK. a sgnal came in saying the gun on the ridge ? was nearly out of shells and needed more urgently as the enemy were pinned down by it and would mobilise if the shelling stopped. A Warrant officer turned and spotted me and called me over." Here , your a driver arnt y' " Yes sir . I replied.

They'd loaded this lorry with as much as it would hold of high expolsive shells and other stuff I diddnt know but some boxes looked like more ammo and all had the crows foot on em. The gun was up on a hill with a dirt road going up which was heavily defended by some Canadian lads , I looked at the lorrys tyres and they were the road tyres it had come with and not the tractor tyres we needed to get through the muddy tracks.

The Canadians cheered as I drove past and one threw me a lit ciggy. I thought of the cargo and flipped it back. About 100yds up the bullets started flying and the winscreen was smashed , I saw the lads in the gun battery waving and yelling as the Lanchester struggled up the hill . more bullets whistled past. it sounded like canvas ripping as they went close by. I thought the whole enemy line must be firing at me. The Lanchester only had a 20hp engine--Daimler I think. and was really struggling, anyway, it stalled and wouldnt go any further The bullets were winging off the shells and boxes and I took cover quick. The lads in the gun battery came down and dragged the boxes up to the gun placement as the Canadians laid down covering fire.

The should have put down covering fire for the Lanchester and it might have made it! Thats the army for y'"

We were in worse danger from our officers than we were from the Germans

Richard  -'Dick'- Bentham.

Verses

Akin to a Dalesmans Litany.

The birdsong sounds strange on the ear of the soldier

The lowing of cattle the bleat of the ewe

Have replaced the low drone of the gas sirens wailing

The shouting of orders the tanks crashing through.

Lace up your black boots and your long khaki gaiters

Pull on your thick greatcoat and reach for your cap
Ther'll be no saluting no screaming and shooting
Only the ghosts stalk the salient gap.


Stand high on the outrake with the racing clouds scudding
Across from the hills of the far western dales
The wind laced with smoke from the smouldering heather
You thought you would never see Yorkshire again.


Look down at the village the chimney smoke lies
In the hollows and dips like the green mustard gas

Like the shellholes and trenches of Pachendaeles quagmire

Where prayers where worth nothing and life was worth less.


You sit in the wall gap you'd started repairing
Back in 1914 when you and your mates

Had walked down to town to enlist for the army

And picked up your uniform rifle and boots.


The very same boots on your feet settle strangely
On the stones of the wall that you started to build
As the lads went away to be butchered in battle
Singing lilibulero they went to be killed..


The rumble of thunder across the wild Howgills
Sends flashes to light up te steep purple fells .
You glance at the sky with the dark brooding clouds.
The thunder rolls over you think of the shells.


It isnt your doing that you were the one
Who returned to your dale to the life that you knew
Eddy and Billy and Stanley and Jimmy
They fell with the many you stood with the few.

Yet life must go on in the unending cycle
Like the flowers in the hayfield the trees and the leaf
The flowers get cut down with the hay in high summer
The soldier the same suffers glory or grief.


In the drawer lies a medal attached to a ribbon

And sepia photographs dogeared and creased.

One for the grief and one for the glory

The pictures mean most and the medals means least.

So you look at the boots that took you into battle

Still crusted in parts with the Paschendaele mud

 You build back the wall and look back down the dale

Who's peace has been bought with your comrades spilt blood.

A stone in the churchyard with bloodsplash red poppies

The names of his comrades in dull beaten lead

Like the bullets that killed them and thousands of others
He stares at the words--'To our glorious dead' ©mike locke

By MPL.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Passchendaele

" They called me from my position and said take these mules and go to the railhead to collect the rations. They knew I was used to animals and the mules were terrified cos they smelled the blood. When I gets to the railhead theres the Quartermaster standing on a kind of duckboard. I reported to him and asked where the rations were . He just laughed and pointed to the churned up mud that came up to your middle. There were bloated rats lying dead in it and bubbles rising and popping on the top. They just threw the cases of bully off the wagon and into the mud. I went back without the rations and the seargent had a fit. Ten minutes later he was dead , A sniper saw him jumping about and popped him." Jackie Bentham.





Upon the outbreak of hostilities the Bentham boys ; Jackie, Eddy and Dick, joined up along with a lot of others from thereabouts, were given brief training and sent to France! Their Father John Had a greengrocers shop in Liffey Street Toxteth , He came from the Dales looking for work as a Cowman.  Both their parents died of tuberculosis which was rife in the area and the children were orphaned and farmed out to relatives . The girls to the mother's side and the boys to the fathers as was the tradition . The boys to "Uncle Ned " Bentham , and the girls , Isobel , Agnes , Margaret and Hannah ,  to The Parkinsons of Littletown . Dick joined up in Liverpool having fled Dent in search of sufficient money to "Liberate" his siblings . Jackie and Eddy joined up in Yorkshire! Jackie for the Northumberlands who recruited in those parts.

It was not until much later in life that the two survivors, Dick and Jackie would talk about their experiences in the trenches and the awful needless slaughter that they witnessed. However, they did and it was to me that they saw fit to tell as a record of what befell them.

I shall recount as best as I remember the events as told to me.



Dick was a motorcycle courier and was attached to the 61st (armoured?) and also had driving duties as he was identified as one of the few experienced drivers. Not many about in those days! And had to deliver munitions on a lorry to the forward gun emplacements at Ypres and St Quentin. Not a happy circumstance but he fared somewhat better than the poor bloody infantry! He was Shelled and shot at from the whole of the German line as he tried to deliver munitions to a gun emplacement on the high ground near St Quentin. He survived and returned to his batalion unscathed to the amazement of his C.O.

Jackie was a different matter. He had distinguished himself at the butts and was found to be proficient with the SMLE. –Short Magazine Lee Enfield. In fact he was a great marksman! This marked him out as a sniper, Not an enviable job but this was war! Jackie often mentioned His friend and comrade Jack Pedley who he once described to me as his “spotter” at Paschendaele where he was deployed in his sharpshooter capacity.

It was there that the inter regiment shooting match took place. It has been suggested that it was against the Germans but Although it is compelling to think that it was one of those occasions , that was not how Dick Bentham described it to me.
Jackie dismissed it saying  " Tuther fella cuddnt hit yon barn frm inside v' it"

It appears that the regiment was stood down behind the lines resting when Jackie’s Captain ordered him to fall in with his rifle and a clip of ammunition and follow him to a wooded area where another regiment had brought their best marksman for a shooting match. The officers were making wagers. The rank and file were lining the slopes of the little ravine and making their own bets with whatever they had in francs and “our own money!” The range was paced out to a single tree about 50 yards from where the marksmen stood and the target was produced. The Major placed a single silver Franc in a notch in the tree cut with a bayonet and marked around with whitewash.

Each marksman was to take three rounds of .303 and the best of these would be deemed the winner!

The tall man from the other regiment  (Never did learn which regiment ) stood forward having won the toss and drew bead on the distant tree. The rifle jerked as the shot rang out and the spotter ran up to point the shot. Low and to the left.

Jackie weighed up the mark and gauged the wind, which was blowing quite strongly across the range and took his first shot. It smacked into the white about four inches from the Franc to the right. Jackie adjusted his windage a couple of clicks and stood down to watch his adversary take his next shot. It went high about four inches. Both excellent shots under pressure and without support. Jackie took his second shot to a flurry of activity while the regiment repositioned their bets having seen how the land lay and it seems that a lot more money went on Jackie as the “form horse”. The other marksman stood forward and took his last shot. One inch away from the Franc. A great groan went up from one side and a cheer from the other as the spotter marked the shot! It looked hard to beat and the man stood back well satisfied with his shot!

Jackie stood forward to take his last shot and realising that the wind was just gusting up again threw the rifle to his shoulder and snapped the last shot off as the wind was right! The Franc spun into the air! A great shout went up as the officers ran to find the Franc and Jackie’s regiment threw hats in the air and cheered as they went to settle their bets and claim their winnings. The tall man from the other regiment shook Jackie’s hand as the officers came up with the badly bent coin which was inspected by all concerned before it was claimed by the Major as his trophy!

This I believe is actually on record . It is, however, as close to the tale related by Dick Bentham as I can remember.

Above right is a picture of John William Bentham The formidable Jackie of Nun house in Deepdale , picture taken in 1914 before the Battle of the Somme.

Jackie fought at Paschendaele and was lucky to survive the war Unlike the unfortunate Edward his younger brother in the lower picture . Eddy was gassed at St Quentin and sent home from the front but later died of lung damage in Fuse hill hospital in Carlisle. He was buried with his parents John and Isabella in Dent graveyard, The first grave on the left as you approach the Church from the marketplace. His name appears on the war memorial to the right of the church door--in lead!©mike locke

©

"Lillibulero ", it it reported ,was written by a parliamentarian soldier during the English civil war--(Ther y' go again Slaughtering each other!!)-- Rare thing in those days to find a soldier who could write-and write music too??
They should have had him stuffed and mounted--Then killed! ;-)

Heres Mike Hardings take--Mike lived for a while in the same valley that was home to the Bentham lads so he can have a slot here too.




AND FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!


That just sums it all up!! Leave it to the ANZACS for the final word!!----- "I say --Godfrey I seem to have forgotten my thingy--whatsitcalled--ER --gun--beastly thing!!-- Got my hot water bottle though!! " There were lots of references to the bravery of the troops , lots of references to the tyrrany of the officers. An abiding theme throughout history. There were notable exceptions--Noel Chavasse being the best example.

Lions led by DONKEYS!!!!

©mike locke

This is a picture of Percy Douglas Locke drawn at Etaple camp in 1917 on the back of the "Swansdown" Lable. See the writing on the left in Percy's hand , Percy was blown up by a mine and buried alive for two days with various injuries. He eventually burrowed his way out and was repatriated to military hospital. Thereafter , he would never use a lift , (elevator)

He would never travel in a lift and had an acute dislike of confined spaces --Prefectly understandable.

He was the nicest gentleman you could ever hope to meet. Not cut out for war but knew where his duty l

From the old TRA. Transatalantic "Sessions" Here's John--One of the real greats!!

THIRD PLACE?????? Well the person who won must have been superhuman! Bronwens playing would bring tears to yer eyes!!

Rolling waves--Nice presice playing!

HAHAHAHA!!! HA!

John Earlybird

John Earlybird see how the grasses have grown
The meadow lies fallow like never was mown
The teasle and dock flourish wild at the wall
in the sunshine at dawn when the shadows stand tall.


The plough and the harrow are rusted and brown
where the steel once shone bright as the grain was once sown
No barley will roll like the waves on the sea
The scythes lay unwhetted The Clydesdales graze free.


John Earlybird watch at the crook of the lane
to see me return when the autumn leaves flame
Yet the road stands deserted save for the grey fog
As you walk home alone with your gun and your dog.


Our paths now have parted no more will we stray
Throught mornings reflections as stars fade away
 As sun burns pastel mist from the fringe of the night
I am led to a forest of green dappled light.


John Earlybird Take up the plough and the rake
return to the garden that I must forsake.
let the warmth of the sunlight remind you of me
Like the wandering greylags my spirit flies free.©


Composed by MPL.

Gotta love Keef!

Segovia does Bach--Gotta love this!!

R.T. The best rendition of this classic that I have heard!

One of my faves! A rendition is to be heard in the Baltic fleet clip!

Lowlands? Evocative old shantie-one of the more mournful numbers--This is a rather slow rendition "Y' cuddnt pull Y' sails in to this one!!

Anime shanties Now there's a novelty!!

Here's Bernie--Bernie ran the folk club at the "Lamb" and many other liverpool singers clubs

Here's Andy-I remember Andy from the days of the "Lamb Hotel" at Wavertree.

The days of the duck

As I wandered down Rayrig one new years day morning To see the low sun on the the Langdales high flanks
I was called from the road by a brown coated traveller Twas the Cravendale Parson fat Jack from West banks.

From Crosshills by Steeton By toll roads and bridleways roamed the bold Parson with ferns in his boots.
His shiny red countenance told of the weather With wind batterd cheeks and a head like a coots

Wilt tha walk along wi me he asked in good humour , to view the broad lake from the top of yon hill?
Well head to Cocks corner and wait for some companyThen seek some fortune and go where we will.

We sat in the bracken and looked over Lowwood and saw the white swans as the flew down the mere,
The grebe and the mallard went ducking and dabbling whilst down in the coppices browsed the dun deer.

We came to Cocks corner the cross in the toll road and sat and considered the which way to take,
up to high Kirkston to hear the bold preacher or Down into Ecclerigg shore by the lake.

As we sat debating along hie'd two characters Benjamin Buckmaster bearded and bright ,
in a weskit of satin in multiple colours and britches of leather as black as the night.

Donald the woodcutter his brave companion was dressed up in moleskin the rustic's attire,
He carried a billhook thrust into his belt  And now where st tha bound off to they both did inquire.

We follow the road in the quest for good fortune on this new years day at the start of the year,
And the way that things go when good friends come together would seem to suggest that we call for some beer!

The Parson produced a fat purse made of leather which jingled with coin as the fat rascal spoke,
Tis my last collection from all the sad sinners absolving their guilt with the purse and the poke.

Now what better reason to satisfy treason with this guilty money from letchers and rogues,
And so to my thinking well pray while were drinking and heaven will smile on us yet I suppose.

Amen to that said bold Benjamin piously bowing his head and removing his hat,
Amen cried good Donald ,Hosanna I shouted  The Parson concluded  well that settles that!

So with coin and good humour we took to the bridleway, houses were shuttered below and above,
Sez Ben Ive the thirst o yon Methodist preacher me tongue it resembles a cowdrovers glove!

 Sez,I have recollection of last years collection of hunters and topers  all trying their luck
at an inn up at Barngates by humouous incident comes to be known as the old Drunken Duck.

So we quickened our pace and headed to Skelwith crossed over the brig and climbed up past the spout
as we came to Bull close apprehended the clamour of drinkers and revelers in a fine rout

A bonfire was roaring and smoke it was  pouring and people were singing the songs of the day
The Parson hacked up with four tankards of ale now remember my friends we must drink while we pray!!

We sent invocations to heaven in plenty they rose with the smoke and the  songs and the cheer
The angels smiled  down on our own bit of heaven  Benedictions did flow till we ran out of beer.

The new year was young but the evening grew older on this the first day at the dawn of the year.
As we wended our way to find somewhere to slumber in hayloft or byre with the cows for warm cheer!©mike locke

Ukelele dreams! George Harrison kept a uke in every room (Alegedly) in case he was taken by the inspiration to compose another tune

Heres Jake--He would have made Old George Formby look twice??

Ah! Ronnie Drew doin what he did best --The best!

http://songbook1.tripod.com/DinglePuckGoat.html

Dowland!! Lute Toot Toot!!

Grace O'Mahoney from Skibbereen We could all learn from this one--Lift the lid and listen!!

Metis fiddle music by the remarkable Sierra Noble--Lift the lid and listen!!!

Strings.

 

 

Tenor banjo anybody?

Gerry O'Connor--"The lads of bluehill" Also heard it called  The lads of the green hill"
Whatever ---A fine rendition!!!

In the "Trawler"

The Trawler was an old pub even then --Then being 1964, The fixtures and fittings were robust out of necessity as it was subjected to vigourous treatment and the facilities were haphazard!
The bar accepted all known currencies as it was a thriving dockland environment and all nationalities passed through the ever open doors.
There were a few good "Waterholes" along the dock road with names that put todays attempts at quirkyness in the shade . There was the "Bramley moore" "Oily joes" "Dominic Reagans" "The Baltic fleet" "The seven steps" and "Fat Annies" To name but a few! All busy and all affordable. A pint was about 2/6--12.5 P
A visit to the toilet in the Trawler could be a chancy business as the flushing pipe from the overhead cistern was truncated halfway down and the water spurted out over the line of relieved patrons "Presenting arms" at the grimy slate. It was considered to be a fine prank to give the lever a tug as you departed to set the flushing mechanism in motion and sprint through the crowded bar pursued by several soaking sailors hell bent on revenge!!
The music was random and the cachophony was woeful until all the players latched on to the same tune and then the party started in earnest. I can honestly say that I have never heard anything so spontaneously good before or since even allowing for the rosy glow that time tends to impart!.
This sort of informal and impromptu session was not uncommon and players and singers from all walks of life were united in the commonallity of the event and the rich spirit of the musical comunity.

Tall ships visit Shanty night in the Baltic fleet

#


Smoking ban y' say?

John Martyn! Great artist. really good stuff especially with Danny Thompson. RIP John

Evocative tunes from the 60/70 era that still make me ---Lift the lid and listen!!

Dubliners!

The first Irish band I heard --The Dubliners!--with the original line up with Bobby lynch . Luke was still guesting for them a bit like Tommy Makem and the Clancy's The other band to come roaring out of Erins green sod!  The late Ronnie Drews corncrake vocals were superb and Lukes balladeering power vocals were a superb counter! --I heard some of Barneys tenor banjo reels and jigs and that was it--Hooked! I bought "Finnegan wakes" Recorded at the gate theatre Dublin and played it over again--By this time I was boring all my friends to death with this exciting 'new' music and a few of them liked it and came along for the ride!! We learned "Chief O'niells favourite" The first hornpipe in O'Neills tunes--We played it to death.
We took up residence in the "Court house" pub in Commutation Row at the bottom of London road. the pub was run by Danny English who was a well known Liverpool landlord . His son Jimmy hosted a singers night on Saturday night and A host of Characters from Gerrards crescent nearby contributied to the raffish atmosphere! The Liverpool "Writers" of the day came to call frequently and Frank Shaw the
author of "Lern yerself scouse" used to come along with Glyn Hughes Who wrote "Whiskey on a Sunday"

History

I started playing in 1963 when I was a member of Edge hill BR. Band, Flugel horn!-- Fine instrument but I always wanted to play strings!-- No cash and no idea No instrument!! I bought a bowl back mandolin from an old Kitchen porter for £2 It was by "Fratelli Hasserman " Napoli. Re strings done at Frank Hessy in Liverpool!
The ghosts of the Beatles  were still lurking in the area!!! I just wanted to play folk!-- The late great Jim Gretty re strung it for me for 12/6!!--62.5P Ha!! The times they were a changin And I dicovered the "Green Moose" coffee bar. Bohemian and fascinating  peopled by the Liverpool folk set and I was overawed!!  I was working in the city centre as a chef in a department store and when the shop shut I used to go and sit in the ruins of the Albert dock and wait for the crowd to start filling "Dominic Reagans"--The Trawler Public house opposite the dock  --What a night!! What a din!! What fun!!

Flatback capers