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Janette Horn and Iain Johnston have researched and published a book, entitled Echoes of War, which combines family stories sourced from the Airdrie and Coatbridge public, and creative writing contributions including poems by local writers. Now the writers are already planning to compile a second volume to showcase more of the personal stories they discovered after asking Monklands residents for their family connections to the conflict.
Craigneuk resident Janette told the Advertiser: He was able to give us photos and a lot of information. He came from Limerigg and is on the war memorial at Slamannan.
Click here for more from Airdrie and Coatbridge. They first began working on their project in , and Janette said: Echoes of War is on sale at Summerlee museum in Coatbridge; and will also be available from a stall run by the authors at Tesco in Coatbridge on September 16, from 11am. I also loved pop music, both as a simple uncomplicated joy and as a perfect, accessible meeting point of high and low culture.
Spare me the boring middle ground: The KLF soundtracked my rave years, and I was probably quite literally raving about this amazing band and their incredible ideas when an older hippy friend quietly handed me a copy of Illuminatus Book 1: The Eye In The Pyramid, and said, this is where it all came from. I think I was 23 years old.
My course was already pretty much set: Illuminatus just gave me a few more tools and reference points. I spent years on the dole, writing, learning to write and trying to get noticed.
This writing lark is a doddle, I thought: One of my problems was this: I used to do it all the time as a kid, writing and drawing my own comics and spinning off long yarns in piles of Silvine exercise books. But adolescent self-consciousness shut down that uncensored creativity. I still had ideas, but I would lose my nerve when I tried to write them down.
I would get so far in and then convince myself that it was all a load of crap. I partly solved this by writing about my real life instead, thinking of myself as a beat writer in the mould of my great heroes Jack Kerouac and Henry Miller.
So I wrote and performed poetry, and drifted into the arena of the freelance, mostly unpaid music journalist. I even interviewed Bill Drummond for The Quietus. Good times, sure, but really I just wanted to be a novelist.
I was certain I could make a go of it, if only I could get rid of this blockage that was jamming my circuits. I literally needed to kick out the jams. Over the next year this Discordian, magical influence seeped into the Brighton scene in strange and interesting ways, even as the political and social climate in the UK and the world continued to worsen.
I wrote a poem about it, in which I alluded, in passing, to the Hove Space Program. When we heard about some people in Sheffield who were planning a Discordian festival for the following summer, we travelled up to meet them and get involved.
Inevitably however, there was a comedown. And with that there was a feeling of, what next? I was a writer. And a couple of weeks after Festival 23 I had a possibly chemically induced revelation of what I personally had to do to keep the energy flowing and the counter-cultural revolution going forward: John district at MacDonald Street. I would be really grateful if local papers could be checked.
Does the regiment have a museum with any records of service?
Craigneuk resident Janette told the Advertiser: I used to do it all the time as a kid, writing and drawing my own comics and spinning off long yarns in piles of Silvine exercise books. I spent years on the dole, writing, learning to write and trying to get noticed. Amorphous Albion is dedicated to Bill and Jimmy, with respect. Subscribe to our Daily newsletter Enter email Subscribe. When we heard about some people in Sheffield who were planning a Discordian festival for the following summer, we travelled up to meet them and get involved.
Thank you both again for helping me with the dte of death, it is also good to know that the story of dying on board a hospital ship could have been factual. Janet Pte Tom Calderbank had a lively time in Gallipoli, he was once shot through his hat escaping uninjured, shortly afterwards he was badly injured in his face, following a spell in hospital he returned to the front, where the explosion of a shell, threw him in the air and was buried beneath sand bags for some hours. He was later admitted to hospital with a fever, and on a hospital ship bound for home Tom died, he was buried at sea.
I have the full transcript from the Wigan Examiner reporting his memorial service at the Wesleyan Chapel in Lamberhead Green, if you send me your email address i will scan it and send you a copy.
Stories when you're dead (Calderbank serious Book 1) eBook: William Kerr: www.farmersmarketmusic.com: Kindle Store. I have been writing stories now for eight years but have been writing poetry for most of my adult life. Stories when you're dead (Calderbank serious Book 1).
Hello, I have found Tom's medal card for you. Hope that it is OK to post here.