Starter Put the “celebrities” in order of where they came in this year’s “I’m a Celebrity…Get me outta here!” Celebrity Position they came in 2007 Christopher Biggins Malcolm McClaren 12 Mark Bannerman Cerys Matthews Janice Dickinson Jason ‘J’ Brown Rodney Marsh Anna Richardson Lynne Franks Johh Burton Race Gemma Atkinson Katie Hopkins Rank the celebrities 1-12 1 = Winner 2= Runner up 12= 12 th and 1 st out of the Jungle!
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Starter Put the “celebrities” in order of where they came in this year’s “I’m a Celebrity…Get me
POD2July 20, 1918 My own beloved wife I do not know how to start this letter. The circumstances are different from any under which I ever wrote before. I am not to post it but will leave it in my pocket, if anything happens to me someone will perhaps post it. We are going over the top this afternoon and only God in Heaven knows who will come out of it alive. I am in his hands and whatever happens I will look to him in this world and the world to come. If I am called my regret is that I leave you and my bairns. I go to him with your dear face the last vision on earth I shall see and your name upon my lips, you the best of women. You will look after by Darling Bairns for me and tell them how their daddy died.
Oh! How I love you all and as I sit here waiting I wonder what you are doing at home. I must not do that. It is hard enough sitting waiting. We may move at any minute. When this reaches you for me there will be no more war, only eternal peace and waiting for you. It is a legacy of struggle for you but God will look after you and we shall meet again when there will be no more parting. I am to write no more sweetheart... Kiss the Bairns for me once more. I dare not think of them my Darlings. Goodbye, you best of women and best of wives, my beloved sweetheart. May God in his mercy look over you and bless you all... May he in that same mercy preserve me today. Eternal love fromYours for evermoreJim xxxxxxxx
"My subject is war, and the pity of war. The poetry is in the pity." – Wilfred Owen.
Futility
Move him into the sun -Gently its touch awoke him once,At home, whispering of fields unsown.Always it woke him, even in France,Until this morning and this snow.If anything might rouse him nowThe kind old sun will know.
Think how it wakes the seeds, -Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,Full-nerved - still warm, - too hard to stir?Was it for this the clay grew tall?- O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?
POD 6
"My subject is war, and the pity of war. The poetry is in the pity." – Wilfred Owen.
POD 6
Dulce et Decorum est Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,And towards our distant rest began to trudge.Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hootsOf gas-shells dropping softly behind. Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! -- An ecstasy of fumblingFitting the clumsy helmets just in time,But someone still was yelling out and stumblingAnd flound'ring like a man in fire or lime. --
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams before my helpless sightHe plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams, you too could paceBehind the wagon that we flung him in,And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,If you could hear, at every jolt, the bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungsBitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.
"My subject is war, and the pity of war. The poetry is in the pity." – Wilfred Owen.
POD 6ANTHEM1 FOR DOOMED YOUTH
What passing-bells2 for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out3 their hasty orisons.4
No mockeries5 now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, – The shrill, demented6 choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles7 calling for them from sad shires.8
What candles9 may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor10 of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk11 a drawing-down of blinds.12
September - October, 1917
Evaluation H/W
Were people really shocked by trench warfare (i.e. Was it really
that bad?)
H/WTo be completed by :-
FRIDAY 14th December
Username: Bridge
Password: Lee
GCSE menu / Year 10
2. World War I Course
1. Decision making simulation: Life in the trenches
Complete the simulation, and then answer the questions on the worksheet – or download the sheet, and complete it using Microsoft Word.