The Royal Green Jackets Regimental Associa on
potential sponsors. Once launched, the Appeal will run for nine months to 31 October 2014.
(Con nued from previous page)
The logo designed to publicise the Museum’s Waterloo 2015 Exhibition and Appeal is featured at the end of this article together with the HLF logo which the museum is obliged to display alongside all publicity material about the exhibition. The strap line ‘History Matters’ is not only highly pertinent but the title of Hampshire’s Secondary History Teachers’ biannual magazine. Details of the Appeal and how to contribute to it will be publicised on the RGJ Regimental Association website on 16 January and subsequently as widely as possible using every method available. Branches already have a good idea of what is planned. Approaches will also be made to individuals, supporters of the Museum, grant-giving trusts and
The Museum’s Trustees are particularly grateful that the RGJ Regimental Association Committee has endorsed the importance of the Museum’s Waterloo 2015 Appeal by designating it the Association’s main fund-raising effort in 2014. There has not been an appeal like it since the Museum was created in the 1980s and there is no intention of initiating another in the foreseeable future. It is very much hoped, therefore, that, when the call comes, members of the Regiment will contribute as generously as they are able. In anticipation, thank you. Lt-Gen Sir Christopher Wallace Chairman, RGJ Museum Trustees
Waterloo 2015 HISTORY MATTERS
www.rgjmuseum.co.uk The Royal Green Jackets (Rifles) Museum Trust (Charity No. 1009691)
She’ll miss me I miss her, my mum. These wet, and cold streets are no place for me. I'm out later than she likes me to be. Standing on street corners, with my mates nearby, if she saw me now, I know she would cry ... I miss her, my mum. We're walking off now, together we go. Shoulders all swinging. Putting on a good show. They watch us coming, signalling our route, waiting to see which one they will shoot ... I miss her, my mum. Cars flash past in the rain, coming and going. Again, and again. I tense at each one, watching them leave, wiping mist from my sight with my glove or my sleeve ... I miss her, my mum. I'm here, eighteen! I'm a man! I struggle to be as brave as I can. My mates - they are better - good soldiers all, they'll make sure that none of us fall ... I miss her, my mum. What was that flash? What was that bang? Why are they shouting? Why am I numb? Please someone, PLEASE! Go get my mum! I miss her, my mum. I see my mate Tommy, he's stroking my head. But I'm looking down? Does this mean I am dead? I'm shouting! Listen lads! I'm ok! I'm alright! Why can't you hear me? It's quite silent tonight ... She'll miss me. My mum. Ken Pettengale
E-Zine 2013
Volume 5 Issue 3 | 13
