The family of British WWI poet Wilfred Owen fear that his Military Cross has been stolen. A silver cigarette case believed to have been given to the poet on his 21st birthday, is also missing, presumed stolen.
Owen was one of the leading WWI poets and wrote with shocking realism about the horrors of the trenches and gas warfare with poems such as Dulce Et Decorum Est and Anthem For Doomed Youth.
But he was killed in action on November 4 1918 at the Battle of the Sambre in northern France - tragically, just a week before the war ended. He received his Military Cross posthumously.
Owen's family say the poet's possessions went missing from their home in Cobham, Surrey, between May and July, but they didn't report the missing items until September.
The medal, which the poet's mother wore around her neck every day until she died in 1942, was passed to Owen's brother Harold, and then his nephew, Peter Owen, now 70.
British Prime Minister David Cameron last year chose Dulce Et Decorum Est as his favourite poem, and said:
‘I still remember the first time I read Owen’s poems, and the incredible power and anger about the First World War.
‘For me, they were literally an eye-opener and I still find them moving when I read them again today.’
Owen was a friend of his fellow British soldier and poet Siegfried Sassoon, who survived the war.
WWI poet Wilfred Owen's Military Cross and cigarette case feared stolen
By Daily Mail Reporter
19th January 2011
Daily Mail
Hero: Wilfred Owen's poem Dulce Et Decorum Est describes the horrors of war as he describes watching a doomed comrade dying
The family of World War I poet Wilfred Owen fear the military cross he was awarded posthumously has been stolen.
The medal, which the poet's mother wore around her neck every day until she died in 1942, was passed to Owen's brother Harold, and then his nephew, Peter Owen, now 70.
Mr Owen said as well as the medal and its box, a silver cigarette case believed to have been given to the poet on his 21st birthday, is also missing, presumed stolen.
The family delayed reporting the missing items to police until September last year, although they say the poet's possessions went missing from their home in Cobham, Surrey, between May and July.
It appears the family had reported the medal missing once before, but it was found in a safe hiding place a year later.
Owen (1893 – 1918 ), one of the leading WWI poets, wrote with shocking realism about the horrors of the trenches and gas warfare with poems such as Dulce Et Decorum Est and Anthem For Doomed Youth.
Treasured heirlooms: Wilfred Owen's silver cigarette case (left) and his Military Cross with its box (right) are missing, believed stolen. Peter Owen, the hero's nephew, wants the distinctive award and case returned
He was inspired by his friend and fellow poet Siegfried Sassoon, who survived the war.
Owen was killed in action on November 4 1918 at the Battle of the Sambre in northern France, a week before the war ended.
The horror: British troops march towards trenches near Ypres at the Western Front during the First World War
He had been told he would be put forward to receive a Military Cross for his actions the month before he was killed. The engraving on the back of the Cross is Wilfred ES Owen. The citation he received after his death read:
'For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in the attack on the Fonsomme Line on October lst/2nd, 1918. On the company commander becoming a casualty, he assumed command and showed fine leadership and resisted a heavy counter-attack.
'He personally manipulated a captured enemy machine gun from an isolated position and inflicted considerable losses on the enemy.
Throughout he behaved most gallantly.'
David Cameron, a keen fan of the poet, chose Dulce et Decorum Est as his favourite poem, saying late last year:
‘I still remember the first time I read Owen’s poems, and the incredible power and anger about the First World War.
‘For me, they were literally an eye-opener and I still find them moving when I read them again today.’
Owen was commissioned as an officer aged 22 in 1915 and wrote Dulce et Decorum Est in 1917, the year before he was killed on the battlefield.
Its title is part a Latin phrase. The final line of the poem is: ‘The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.’ The Latin phrase means: ‘It is sweet and right to die for your country.’
His anthology of War Poems was published posthumously in the 1920s and his poems have been hailed as some of the most insightful and honest depictions of war in the past 90 years.
DULCE ET DECORUM EST by WILFRED OWEN
dailymail.co.uk
Owen was one of the leading WWI poets and wrote with shocking realism about the horrors of the trenches and gas warfare with poems such as Dulce Et Decorum Est and Anthem For Doomed Youth.
But he was killed in action on November 4 1918 at the Battle of the Sambre in northern France - tragically, just a week before the war ended. He received his Military Cross posthumously.
Owen's family say the poet's possessions went missing from their home in Cobham, Surrey, between May and July, but they didn't report the missing items until September.
The medal, which the poet's mother wore around her neck every day until she died in 1942, was passed to Owen's brother Harold, and then his nephew, Peter Owen, now 70.
British Prime Minister David Cameron last year chose Dulce Et Decorum Est as his favourite poem, and said:
‘I still remember the first time I read Owen’s poems, and the incredible power and anger about the First World War.
‘For me, they were literally an eye-opener and I still find them moving when I read them again today.’
Owen was a friend of his fellow British soldier and poet Siegfried Sassoon, who survived the war.
WWI poet Wilfred Owen's Military Cross and cigarette case feared stolen
By Daily Mail Reporter
19th January 2011
Daily Mail
Hero: Wilfred Owen's poem Dulce Et Decorum Est describes the horrors of war as he describes watching a doomed comrade dying
The family of World War I poet Wilfred Owen fear the military cross he was awarded posthumously has been stolen.
The medal, which the poet's mother wore around her neck every day until she died in 1942, was passed to Owen's brother Harold, and then his nephew, Peter Owen, now 70.
Mr Owen said as well as the medal and its box, a silver cigarette case believed to have been given to the poet on his 21st birthday, is also missing, presumed stolen.
The family delayed reporting the missing items to police until September last year, although they say the poet's possessions went missing from their home in Cobham, Surrey, between May and July.
It appears the family had reported the medal missing once before, but it was found in a safe hiding place a year later.
Owen (1893 – 1918 ), one of the leading WWI poets, wrote with shocking realism about the horrors of the trenches and gas warfare with poems such as Dulce Et Decorum Est and Anthem For Doomed Youth.
Treasured heirlooms: Wilfred Owen's silver cigarette case (left) and his Military Cross with its box (right) are missing, believed stolen. Peter Owen, the hero's nephew, wants the distinctive award and case returned
He was inspired by his friend and fellow poet Siegfried Sassoon, who survived the war.
Owen was killed in action on November 4 1918 at the Battle of the Sambre in northern France, a week before the war ended.
The horror: British troops march towards trenches near Ypres at the Western Front during the First World War
He had been told he would be put forward to receive a Military Cross for his actions the month before he was killed. The engraving on the back of the Cross is Wilfred ES Owen. The citation he received after his death read:
'For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in the attack on the Fonsomme Line on October lst/2nd, 1918. On the company commander becoming a casualty, he assumed command and showed fine leadership and resisted a heavy counter-attack.
'He personally manipulated a captured enemy machine gun from an isolated position and inflicted considerable losses on the enemy.
Throughout he behaved most gallantly.'
David Cameron, a keen fan of the poet, chose Dulce et Decorum Est as his favourite poem, saying late last year:
‘I still remember the first time I read Owen’s poems, and the incredible power and anger about the First World War.
‘For me, they were literally an eye-opener and I still find them moving when I read them again today.’
Owen was commissioned as an officer aged 22 in 1915 and wrote Dulce et Decorum Est in 1917, the year before he was killed on the battlefield.
Its title is part a Latin phrase. The final line of the poem is: ‘The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.’ The Latin phrase means: ‘It is sweet and right to die for your country.’
His anthology of War Poems was published posthumously in the 1920s and his poems have been hailed as some of the most insightful and honest depictions of war in the past 90 years.
DULCE ET DECORUM EST by WILFRED OWEN
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 hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
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 hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering 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 sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering 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 sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind 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 blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Behind 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 blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
dailymail.co.uk