Cher vieux Blighty (et les garçons là-bas)

Le « Lucifer » dans les paroles était une marque de match avec laquelle les soldats auraient été très familiers.

Felix Powell était hanté par la façon dont son air accompagnait les hommes jusqu'à la mort.

Ceci conclut notre article sur les modèles Carlton China inspirés de la musique populaire de la Première Guerre mondiale et bien cette série d'articles.

Merci à The Internet Archive pour la fourniture des extraits sonores utilisés sur cette page.

Autres articles de cette série sur Carlton Chine
modèles relatifs à la Première Guerre mondiale

Notes de version : La langue de la Première Guerre mondiale

En 1914, l'engagement militaire outre-mer avait depuis longtemps laissé sa marque sur la langue anglaise. Nous pouvons remonter à l'époque élisabéthaine, par exemple, à l'engagement profond de l'Angleterre dans la guerre de quatre-vingts ans aux Pays-Bas et trouver des emprunts entrant en anglais à la fois de l'espagnol, la langue de l'ennemi, et du néerlandais, la langue de l'allié sur lequel territoire où s'est déroulé le conflit. De l'espagnol, nous obtenons tercio (une formation d'infanterie que l'on pourrait décrire comme le char de l'époque), Majeur, et reformé (un terme qui est devenu courant pendant la guerre civile anglaise). Du néerlandais il y a pirate, rôder, assiégeant (à l'origine avec le sens littéral « assiéger »), et Moff. Dans ce contexte, il n'est pas surprenant de trouver le français, langue de l'allié sur le territoire duquel le conflit s'est déroulé, et l'allemand, langue de l'ennemi, ayant une influence similaire sur l'anglais pendant la Première Guerre mondiale.

L'allemand était à l'origine d'un ensemble de prêts tout à fait différent, principalement des mots faisant référence à des armes et des véhicules allemands, tels que minenwerfer (et le diminutif Minnie) et U-bateau. Mais peut-être l'emprunt allemand le plus important de la Première Guerre mondiale - celui qui a survécu à la guerre, a été entièrement naturalisé en anglais et n'est plus perçu comme nettement allemand - est mitrailler.

Gott mitrailler l'Angleterre! (« Que Dieu punisse l'Angleterre ! ») était un slogan allemand de la Première Guerre mondiale, largement utilisé dans la propagande. À l'été 1915, l'expression était en train d'être adaptée par les Britanniques (« Gott strafe chocolate », aurait dit un officier) et mitrailler rapidement entré dans le lexique anglais à la fois comme nom et comme verbe, et dans les dérivés strass et mitraillage. Pour commencer, il était utilisé pour désigner divers types de punitions ou d'attaques sévères : les soldats pouvaient mitrailler (empoisonner, essayer de tuer) les mouches, par exemple, ou être mitraillés (réprimandés) par leurs supérieurs. Il fut bientôt utilisé spécifiquement pour désigner un bombardement ou une attaque à l'arme : un correspondant de guerre écrivit en 1915 qu'il s'était réveillé au « bruit d'une fusillade —... le « coup de feu du matin », comme on l'appelait ». – et la diminution – d'un terme menaçant était un trait commun du langage des troupes.

En 1917, mitrailler s'était encore réduit au sens qu'il a le plus couramment aujourd'hui : comme l'explique un magazine, les pilotes « allaient au « Mitraillage d'Archie », c'est-à-dire en volant à basse altitude au-dessus des canons anti-aériens et en les attaquant avec des tirs de mitrailleuses. » Seconde Guerre mondiale, c'était le sens principal de mitrailler En effet, mitrailler est l'un des nombreux termes relatifs à la guerre aérienne - d'autres incluent raid aérien et bombardement stratégique – qui ont été utilisés pour la première fois pendant la Première Guerre mondiale, mais sont devenus beaucoup plus largement utilisés et plus étroitement associés à la Seconde Guerre mondiale. Ce sens de mitrailler est maintenant si prédominant que toute utilisation du sens général d'origine « attaque » ou « réprimande » (par exemple « Everton… mitrailler le gardien de Chelsea Carlo Cudicini sous tous les angles en seconde mi-temps » ou « Greg est la cible d'un mitraillage verbal de sa petite amie furieuse») sont susceptibles d'être considérées comme des extensions figuratives du sens de la mitraillette.

La mesure dans laquelle mitrailler a été naturalisé en anglais peut être vu dans sa prononciation. Il se prononçait à l'origine avec la voyelle une sonnait (approximativement) comme en allemand, de sorte que mitrailler rhymed with ‘laugh’ this is evidenced by the occasional spelling straff. Maintenant strafe is more usually pronounced to rhyme with other -afe words in English, such as en sécurité et chafe.

These German loans are very similar in nature to the earlier Dutch and Spanish ones they tend to be about the conflict itself, the strategies and technologies by which it was conducted. By contrast, the influence of French was more idiosyncratic, and perhaps more revealing about the culture of the soldiers who used it. Many of the French words used by soldiers at the front were informal phrases that were garbled or mispronounced forms of common French expressions. For the British Tommy many things were doubtless no bon—he might, for example, end up napoo, especially if stationed in Wipers. On Armistice Day in 1918, Ernest Hemingway was in a Red Cross hospital recovering from shrapnel wounds and tonsillitis, feeling ‘bokoo rotten’ (that’s beaucoup). Another phrase of this kind, toot sweet, even found itself with new, macaronic comparative—the tooter the sweeter. In referring to the Germans, British soldiers could be found using the derogatory French word, boche, and also their own corruption of the standard French allemand dans Alleyman. Both words would re-emerge in World War II.

If you are familiar with the word Alleyman, there is a good chance it is because it occurs in one of the songs featured in the 1960s musical and film about World War I, Oh, What Lovely War! The song is called I Want to go Home, and the words were written to a traditional tune at some point during the war, probably by a soldier in the trenches. It provides a particularly striking example of how readily and concertedly the slang words and distinctive coinages of the war found their way into contemporary songs:

I want to go home, I want to go home.
I don’t want to go to the trenches no more,
Where whizzbangs et shrapnel they whistle and roar.
Take me over the sea where the Alleyman can’t get at me.
Oh my, I don’t want to die, I want to go home.

And it wasn’t just songs straight from the trenches that keyed into this experience. Music hall songwriters were quick to express the same sentiments and brought the language of the war directly to theatregoers back home in Britain. The very word which the war brought to prominence to express the idea of being safe back home is at the heart of another song which has ever since been itself at the heart of popular consciousness of the war, Take me back to Dear Old Blighty. Written in 1916, the song marks the completion of the remarkable rise to prominence of Blighty. The word’s origin lies in British rule in India, as bilāyatī, a regional variant of vilāyatī, an Urdu word meaning ‘foreign’, and specifically ‘British’ or ‘European’, which remains in use in Indian English today. Kipling, for example, used the word and also used the related Belait to refer to Britain. Words naturally moved around the British Empire and one of the principal vehicles for this movement was the army, so it is not surprising that the first sight we get of Blighty is in a soldier’s letter home from the Boer War in 1900. In 1915, as troops from around the Empire increasingly congregated in France, this Anglo-Indian coinage was then quickly taken up to capture the idea of home as a longed-for paradise. A wound which was serious enough to necessitate a return home (but not so serious as to cause death or mutilation) became a ‘blighty’. And by 1916 everyone back home knew that Blighty was where their loved ones in Flanders dream to be, so much so that one milliner even attempted to cash in by marketing a Blighty hat! The attempt is shortlived.

This emotional link between civilians in Britain and the armed forces overseas and sense that those back home are contributing to the war effort is now commonplace and plays an especially large role in the popular image of World War II, but it is conclusively evident from the lexical record that it is during World War I that this image is first created. War effort itself is a coinage of World War I, as are rationing, home front, et propaganda film. The various Acts of Parliament that formed the Defence of the Realm Act (or DORA) set in place the legislation under which future wars would be conducted. The introduction of universal service militaire meant that conscientious objectors were marked out as conchies and liable to receive the white feather. Not only the songs in the music halls, but also the development of military technology play an important role in motivating these changes, as civilian London is subject to air raids ou Zeppelining which prefigure the Blitz.

Perhaps this erosion of the gap between combatant and non-combatant, this sense of shared experience of being at war and shared suffering, also contributed to the final and perhaps longest-lasting and most influential expression of the war—the words which describe the act of remembrance. Remembrance Day, Armistice Day, and (in Australia and New Zealand) Anzac Day were all introduced to commemorate the fallen and have subsequently retained that purpose for the fallen of later conflicts. Sir Edwin Lutyens’s Cenotaph in Whitehall was copied in towns and cities throughout the Commonwealth to create a network of national and local memorials. A short period of communal silence was introduced and maintained annually as an ongoing mark of respect. Les Unknown Soldier was buried with full military honours in Westminster Abbey. These names, and the fact that they form part of our ordinary language nearly a century on, are a testament to the power of remembrance that World War I unleashed and also a testament to the power of words to capture, communicate, and record the shared sentiments and shared decisions which history bequeaths to future generations.

Andrew Ball, Associate Editor & Kate Wild, Senior Editor

The opinions and other information contained in the OED blog posts and comments do not necessarily reflect the opinions or positions of Oxford University Press.

A Blog on Blighty

I have just finished the copyedit for DEATH OF AN UNSUNG HERO – Lady Montfort and Edith Jackson’s fourth adventure together which takes place at home in Blighty in 1916 as the Battle of the Somme raged on for most of that year.

A Little Bit of British ‘Hewmah’ from the Front in 1915

My copy editor (who struggles to Americanize me) queried my use of the word ‘Blighty,’ a term I use quite naturally since I am English, but one that she thought American readers would not understand. I dutifully added context so that readers would understand that when we Brits say Blighty that this is our affectionate term for England. And when we refer to’ a Blighty one ‘(which we now only do as a historical reference) we are talking about a combat wound bad enough for the sufferer to be sent back to England. Soldiers fighting in the trenches of France in WW1 sometimes shot themselves, usually in the foot, so that they could be sent home. Which gives you some idea of how desperate the poor devils must have been.

And then I realized that I had no idea how we had come by this expression. I knew Blighty had always been soldiers’ slang popularized during the 1914- 1918 war. And I guessed that it came from soldiers serving in India as lot of our slang at that time came from corrupted Hindi pronunciation. So I did what any sensible person does when they want fuller understanding –I Googled. The BBC was able to give me the fullest possible answer and it is a good one. I have to say it took a lot of self-discipline for me not to cut and paste this explanation into a new ‘Comment’ in ‘Track Changes’ for my copy editor. (If you don’t know what Track Changes are then by all means feel free to use Google!)

A Blighty One is a wound bad enough for a soldier to be sent home … back to England

“Homesickness can do funny things to people. It can create fierce patriotism where once there was just allegiance it can create an idealized society in the mind, one in which no one is ever cruel or selfish or rude because that’s the society the homesick person wishes to return to and it can distort language, so that emotive terms such as the name of home itself should be avoided in case of excessive lower-lip quiver.

‘Patriots’ sending the boys off to France in 1916

Blighty comes out of feelings like these. It’s an affectionate nickname for Britain (or more specifically England) taken from the height of the Victorian rule of India, that was first used in the Boer War in Africa, and popularized on the fields of Western Europe in the First World War.

The many British Imperial ‘skirmishes’ included two Boer wars in South Africa

The Oxford English Dictionary says that the word is a distortion of a distortion: the Urdu word ‘vilayati’ either means foreign, British, English or European, and it became a common term for European visitors to India during the 1800s. A mishearing changed the v to a b, and then ‘bilayati’ became Blighty, as a term to describe British imports from home, such as soda water.There again, it was also claimed by Rupert Graves that it derives from the Hindustani word for home: blitey.

The British cavalry’s continual presence in India ended in 1947 when India became independent.

Having picked up some use during the Boer War (because nothing breeds in-jokes and slang like soldiers living and fighting in close proximity away from home), the term really took off during the long years of trench warfare in World War I. Soldiers would talk openly of dear old Blighty, indicating not only a longing to be away from some of the most horrific battlegrounds in human history, but also a wish to return to a time when such horrors were unthinkable. This elegiac tone was caught and carried by the War Poets: Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen, both of whom used the word when describing their experiences.”

The White Cliffs of Dover were the first thing returning soldiers from France saw as they crossed the Channel from Boulogne. They epitome of Blighty!

The War Office soon picked up on this, releasing a free magazine for active servicemen called Blighty, which contained poems and stories and cartoons from men on the front line. Then there were slang terms like Blighty wound, an injury good enough to get a soldier sent home, but not life-threatening, as depicted in the 1916 Music Hall song “I’m Glad I’ve Got a Bit of a Blighty One” by Vesta Tilley.

The Rum-Loving Monkey Who Crash-Landed in a B-17 During WW2

Back in April 1943, in the depths of the Second World War, an American B-17 crash landed in the seaside town of Clonakilty, County Cork, southern Ireland.

Local Irish residents were astonished to find that one of the crew members who had landed in their midst wasn’t actually an American or, in fact, a human being at all.

Rather, he was a small monkey called Tojo who’d been taken from his home in Morocco and placed aboard an American war plane which went by the name of “T’ain’t a Bird”.

After leaving Morocco the crew had started their flight towards England, but the Boeing B-17 unfortunately ran out of fuel when an incorrect radio report had them soaring off in the wrong direction.

The 10 crewmen and their primate companion suddenly found themselves crashing to earth over the Emerald Isle instead of landing safely in dear old Blighty.

The B-17 crew of T’aint a Bird

When the “American Flying Fortress”, as it was nicknamed, starting circling the skies above Clonakilty, local residents stood and watched in wonder.

Not only had they rarely seen an aircraft of such huge dimensions, but they were also worried about the likelihood of it crashing into one of their church spires as it strafed the town. Luckily, the plane turned towards the sea and crash landed in a nearby marsh.

The confused and extremely worried airmen thought they must have landed in Norway, which was occupied by the Germans at the time.

When they saw local Irish folk descending upon them, they allegedly prepared themselves to resist capture by swallowing cyanide capsules. Fortunately, this desperate measure was not required. The local residents assured the crew they were among friends. Once their identities as American allies had been confirmed, the locals began welcoming them with open arms.

The hotel were the crew stayed.

Quoted in BBC News, local businessman, Thomas Tupper, who grew up knowing the story of Tojo and the American airmen explains that, although the crew was taken into police custody, “The custody consisted of them being in the local hotel O’Donovan’s Hotel where a party ensued for three days”. During that time, Tojo became quite a celebrity as most locals had never seen a monkey in person.

During their unscheduled stopover, the American B-17 airmen were pleased to share their 36 bottles of rum with the friendly rescuers – and Tojo the monkey. Several days later the men were taken initially to Cork, then up to Northern Ireland where they were handed over to the RAF.

However, one of their number was missing. Tojo had taken a great liking to Rum and, whether it was that or the unfamiliar diet or the moist, cold Irish climate, Tojo was beset with an attack of pneumonia and sadly died. Despite the best efforts of local doctors, pharmacists, and vets, nothing could be done to save the poor little monkey.

Credit: Mark McShane

Thomas Tupper recalls it as a local tragedy. Tojo was laid out in the hotel, and locals lined up to pay their respects.

Despite his short time on the island, Tojo made a lasting impression on the town, and he was laid to rest with full military honours. And more recently, a statue in his honour was unveiled at Clonakilty in April 2013 – 70 years after the unusual visitor first made his unscheduled landing.

Dear Old Blighty (And the Boys Back There) - History

And what were those at home doing when all this was going on? Well at the outbreak of hostilities a defence public meeting was held for the purpose of forming an Executive Committee.

The first meeting was held in the Public Hall with Sir George W.M. Dundas, Bart, in the chair. A proposal was submitted to establish a War Emergency Committee by Dr. Wann, and was carried. The committee appointed as its executive to act on its behalf the following people: Rev. Dr. Andrew B.Wann, Chairman Rev. Arthur Crawford Watt, Vice Chairman Sir George W. M. Dundas, Bart Lady Dundas James Comrie James Goldie Rev. William Hall Henry McKinstry Peter McPherson Evan Balfour Melville and John P. Mitchell as honorary secretary and treasurer.

Throughout the war years they worked tirelessly to raise money to fund various activities. They organized fetes and free gift sales, organized sales of work, established a Prisoner of War fund, and held jumble sales. As you will see, multitasking is not a new concept!

Amongst the many activities including manning the shops now that their men folk were away the following was recorded.

The Comrie Public School - Under mainly the auspices of Mr. Goldie, the school head master, and much beloved by all, the children raised substantial moneys through school concerts, plays and other entertainment. They contributed 430 pairs of socks, 150 pairs of cuffs, 56 pairs of knicker hose, 30 pairs of garters, 122 pairs of mittens, 40 pairs of body belts, 127 scarves, 16 pairs of crutches which were sent to the Princess Louise’s Hospital for Limbless Soldiers and Sailors in Erskine, 251 packets of cigarettes, 6 pounds of tobacco, 98 cakes of soap, 56 packets of chocolate, 84 packets of stationery, 115 packets of sweets and one chest protector as well as other articles. I am not sure what a chest protector was, but hope that it kept out shrapnel and bullets!

The 21 st Perthshire Boy Scout Troop sold flags for the Soldier and Sailor Help society, collected waste materials and large quantities of clothing as well as sending 192 blankets and gathered sphagnum moss.

The Red Cross under the charge of Commandant Miss Florence Graham Stirling ably supported her sister Miss Mary Graham Stirling and by Mrs. McDonald of Bank House as quartermaster established an Emergency Hospital. By early October, 500 garments had been made and distributed to several hospitals. Throughout the war their workers collected sphagnum moss in addition to other activities. 4000 eggs were sent to the collection point in Perth. They organized raffles and sales of work and held concert to raise money and boost morale.

The Churches – Comrie had several churches and all made enormous efforts for their congregations and others at large. The Work Party devoted itself to the war effort and sent hundreds of parcels to the troops far away. The parcels contained socks, shirts, knitted goods, and raising money for those who had a lost one and needed the money to live. About half of the male congregation of the Comrie Parish Church served in the forces. The West United Free Church had 56 of its congregation in the forces. The East United Free Church also sent gifts of socks, mufflers, gloves and garments as did St. Serf’s Episcopal Church and the tiny Roman Catholic Church. They all made their contributions in one way or another.

One committee looked after 12 Jewish refugee families from Ostend, Louvain and Alost in “poor little Belgium.” They had nowhere to stay and the Comrie Parish Church used one of their houses in Dunira Street to them ensuring they had a good roof over their head, warmth and food as well as company. They stayed there from November 1914 till mid 1916 where they went onwards to other war centres set up for refugees. They never forgot the kindness shown to them by the Comrie people.

The 2/2 Highland Field Ambulance 250 strong arrived under Major Cameron in October, 1915 and took up winter quarters in the v They stayed at the school and in the church and school halls. Under Major Rorie, and seen off by many from the village, they left for Bedford by train on the 29 th March, 1916, with the pipers playing “Happy we’ve been a’ the gither.” Most never came back and their bones can be found in Flanders Fields and other places.

A War Savings association was set up as were two others. The accumulated capital amounted to £18702.

The Volunteers - there was also a unit of Volunteers who operated under the Defence Sub Committee. The volunteers were people who may have been exempted from military service due to age or infirmity. The author’s grandfather was in one of these units and was posted to guard railway lines in the North of Scotland and then upon his return was shipped to France. He was 38 years old, married with two children when he was called up in 1917. Whilst crossing the channel on a transport ship a British officer slammed a ship’s hatch on his hand crushing his fingers. As a result he was not sent up the line and may have survived the war because of this accident. Although a first class shot he could not use his rifle and he spent much of the time in Northern France on sentry duty in coal fields and at the great POW camp at Étaples. He knew all of the people mentioned in the Comrie War book and lost many friends.

Life and death continued on throughout the War years. Sons took the place of absent fathers as heads of a household. My father, who we shall read a little bit about in the Second World War, as a five year old, was made to stand in as head of the family when his grandmother died. She had been born in 1833 in Invergeldie and died in 1917. A full Scottish funeral was held at the graveyard in Dalginross and several hundred folk showed up as was customary for local well known people. It was a dark grey day, “dreich” as they say, and all dressed in formal black. As principal mourner my father walked behind the hearse and led the procession up Dalginross passing houses which had black crepe paper, or closed curtains, on windows signifying the loss of a loved one, or known one. He never forgot, even as an old man, that “great black hole” he gazed into in the graveyard which was to receive the body of his much loved grandmother!

The whole community suffered as news filtered back from the various War sectors and there was not a dry eye in the whole of Strathearn, and Scotland for that matter. Dozens of committees were formed, each looking at different types of needs, and trying to raise funds for it or organize activities.

Then it was all over. The Armistice was signed on November, 11 th . 1918, and in dribs and drabs our soldiers came home to a land “fit for heroes.” Well it was not quite like that as all suffered due to the loss and the carnage created by the War. There was no band to receive them playing “Land of Hope and Glory,” or “There is a Happy Land, Far Far Away” – too many of their loved ones were already there! There were no welcome home parties or celebrations. This was no land, “fit for heroes.” They had returned to a land of silence, sorrow and sadness, and the mourning still lasts till this day.

Something had to be done and it was, however, in this writer’s view it was at best tokenism, and perhaps a precursor of things yet to come! His Grace, the 8 th Duke of Atholl, John Stewart-Murray, arrived at the Comrie Public Hall on Wednesday the 11 th June, 1919. His photograph displays upon his breast many medals and even as this distance and time they are rather blinding! He was there to honour our returned decorated heroes with the distribution of various types of gifts such as wristwatches and other mementoes. The platform party included Major C. H. Graham Stirling of Strowan (presiding), Brigadier-General the Duke of Atholl (who made the presentations), Sir George W. M. Dundas, Bart., of Comrie House, Major McNaughtan, J.P. of Cowden, Mr. James Gardiner, M. P., and Revs. Dr. Wann, A. C. Watt, and W. Hall, and other members of the War Emergency committee and were accorded a Highland welcome from Piper McFarlane, a local discharged soldier.

The about-to-be addressed heroes were given a front row seat (incidentally they were the same chairs used 70 years later and my mother, when attending an evening there, always took a pillow with her as the chairs were wooden and had no give and were as hard as a rock! Throughout the hall were the relatives and friends of the honoured few, as well as luminaries such as the Hon. Mrs. Williamson and the Rev. C. D. R. Williamson, Mr. A. Wright, Rector of Morrison’s Academy and others.

The good Major wowed the crowd with the shortness of his introduction and passed the proceedings to Atholl. In addition to being a Brigadier-General, the noble Duke was the Lord Lieutenant of the County of Perthshire. This fact he shared with the assembled throng and stated that he was there only to distribute gifts to his fellow soldiers from the village of Comrie. (One wonders what his experience had been in a front line trench!) His overview describes that some 328 men and 24 women from Comrie served in the Great War, and that 75% of them had undertaken military service before December, 1915, and of the balance only twelve put in claims before a Tribunal finding that only three of the claims were fully justified. He pointed out that forty seven men had died in the conflict of which seven were officers. He then moved to those who had received medals and special honours. This list contained the names of eight officers, ten non-commissioned officers and six men (they may have been Privates). In addition two of the ladies had gained the coveted Royal Red Cross. (Applause).

Grasping the nettle he then said in his comments as reported the following: “We hear a great deal about the gaining of awards – how the wrong people get them (woops), and how the right people carry on without them (true). But I can assure you (how would he know?) of this, that a very large proportion of awards go to the right people (hmm!). A modern battlefield is not an ideal place to sit and take notes regarding the counter merits of the officers and men (oh yea!). A large number of the leaders and men are knocked out, the strain is terrific, the gathering of the pieces of the machine immediately after action by the leaders who are already over tired is a work that few men can imagine (all true), who have not seen it, and it is little wonder that in action, where all have done splendidly the names of the specially distinguished are sometimes omitted (true). But I can say this without hesitation (right!) that never in any war in the world has the great majority of the awards been as well deserved as those given in this war. (Applause). It is, of course, quite true that isolated cases may occur (I would think that all who served should have received medals just for being there!) where the recipients may have been able to work the oracle further back in the lines, but you may rest assured that, as far as the fighting troops are concerned, awards recommended by their Company Commanders, through their Commanding Officers, through their Brigadiers, through the Army to General Headquarters, and then to the War office, leave very little room for undue influence (phooee!), and the only trouble is that I found with the system was that many a good man (women?) who ought to have been rewarded was overlooked owing to the multitude of processes through which the names have to pass (golly!).

I would say this to every officer and man in this parish who have not got these awards – do not be disappointed yourself, but look upon these awards that have been given as awards to that part of the military machine that left Comrie for the front, to which you belonged, and which did so splendidly, and I know no one who will be prouder to see the present recipients wearing their well earned honours than the officers and men who went out with them and were not so fortunate as to get them themselves” (Applause) (golly!).

He then moved on to somewhat safer ground by addressing Lieutenant John Manson Craig of Innergeldie for the award of his Victoria Cross gained in Palestine. Several cheques were given to him and it is small wonder that Craig in his remarks said “he did not really know what to say but thanks.”

Dear Old Blighty (And the Boys Back There) - History

THE QUEEN IS DEAD - The Audio Introduction

THE QUEEN IS DEAD begins with a partial sing-along of TAKE ME BACK TO DEAR OLD BLIGHTY recorded from the film THE L-SHAPED ROOM. .

Princess Diana was killed in France and her body had to be taken back to England ("Blighty"). .

Les sing-along of TAKE ME BACK TO DEAR OLD BLIGHTY is led by a woman wearing a formal military jacket. .

When Princess Diana's body was taken back to England, it was unloaded by people in formal military jackets. .

THE QUEEN IS DEAD begins with audio of the character Mavis, in THE L-SHAPED ROOM, leading a sing-along of TAKE ME BACK TO DEAR OLD BLIGHTY.
TAKE ME BACK TO DEAR OLD BLIGHTY is a World War 1 song about English soldiers stationed in France wanting to return home to England (nicknamed Blighty).
Mavis wears a formal military jacket. Princess Diana dies in France and when her body is returned to England it is unloaded by people wearing formal military jackets. .

The album THE QUEEN IS DEAD begins with audio from the film THE L-SHAPED ROOM. .

THE L-SHAPED ROOM is about a young woman who has moved from France to England. .

Princess Diana 's body will have to be moved from La France to E ngland. .

Princess Diana was born on July 1. .

In THE L-SHAPED ROOM, Lesley Caron has moved from France to England. Princess Diana's body was moved from France to England. Lesley Caron was born July 1. Princess Diana was born July 1. .

THE QUEEN IS DEAD begins with audio from the film THE L-SHAPED ROOM about a character named "Jane" who is the lone occupant of the room in the title. .

The last Jayne Mansfield film ever released was SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED about a woman played by "Jayne" who is the lone occupant of the room in the title. .

The cover of the first DVD edition of THE L-SHAPED ROOM is a brick wall where "Jane" (Lesley Caron) is in a window with the title printed on the window shade above her. .

The cover of the first DVD edition of SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED is a brick wall where "Jayne" Mansfield is in a window with the title printed on the window shade above her. .

The first DVD covers of THE L-SHAPED ROOM and SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED are very similar.
Each has a brick wall with Jane/Jayne in the window, below a window-shade bearing the title of the film. .

THE L-SHAPED ROOM is the introduction to THE QUEEN IS DEAD, whose title announces a woman's death. .

SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED has an introduction that is an announcement of Jayne Mansfield's actual death. .

"You are about to see SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED, the new motion picture starring Jayne Mansfield in her last,
and in my opinion, her finest performance. .
When she completed this picture, a tragic accident took Jayne Mansfield to another stage. All of us in the theater,
on the screen, and in the newspaper profession, miss her very much. But Jayne left us all a legacy, the characters
she created in SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED, the film you are about to see. . "

THE L-SHAPED ROOM begins with actress Lesley Caron playing "Jane" walking in front of a store named WALTERS. .

SINGLE ROOM FURNISHED begins with the death of "Jayne" Mansfield being announced by someone named Walter. .