A LITTLE WW2 HISTORY LESSON: "Wound My Heart With Monotonous Languor" // "John Has A Long Mustache" // "The Chair Is Against The Wall"
jerry diamond
| A LITTLE WW2 HISTORY LESSON: "Wound My Heart With Monotonous Languor" // "John Has A Long Mustache" // "The Chair Is Against The Wall" I WAS CURIOUS ABOUT THESE ON dutchsinse HOMEPAGE, SO I DID A STUDY ON THEM, FYI..."Wounds my heart , with a monotonous languor" ….. "john has a long mustache"....................................................."The Chair Is Against The Wall"...... http://www.dutchsinse.com/blog/ NOTE!!! this site does have a warning on my PC, but I see it on a lot of Patriot sites, may be an attack, etc; use discretion. You can watch dutchsinse stuff on You Tube, YOU DON'T NEED TO GO TO HIS SITE, NOT MUCH UP ANYWAY. It's from the movie Red Dawn, it is simply codewords for something,
here is the quote:
.Radio Free America Announcer: It's 11:59 on Radio Free America; this is Uncle Sam, with music, and the truth until dawn. Right now I've got a few words for some of our brothers and sisters in the occupied zone: "the chair is against the wall, the chair is against the wall", "john has a long mustache, john has a long mustache". It's twelve o'clock, American, another day closer to victory. And for all of you out there, on, or behind the line, this is your song. [the Battle Hymn of the Republic begins to play] This style of codeword/phrase system was used in Europe during WW2 to send instructions to operatives behind enemy lines. The Chair is Against the Wall could mean that a set of railway tracks must be blown up or a supply drop was en route to a group of operatives. "John has a long mustache" is a direct reference to the Allied code phrase for Operation Overlord, the Normandy Invasion (D-Day, WW2). The signal, like many others, was sent over normal radio broadcasts; each codeword/phrase meant something to a specific group or individual listening in Nazi occupied territory. This specific code phrase was the signal to the French Resistance (the Maquis) that the invasion would begin the next day. To them, this meant that need to execute pre-arranged sabotage and other preparations as planned before the landings on the French coast. The whole sequence is an homage to the movie "The Longest Day", in which French Resistance members are listening to the radio, and hear a sequence of the normally meaningless (to them) phrases, until they hear "John has a long mustache" repeated twice, and set in motion the pre-invasion plans. The Germans also realize the invasion is about to begin, but due to Allied deceptions, the Nazis are still unsure as to the landing site. In "The Longest Day", the sequence was "Molasses tomorrow will bring forth cognac", then "John has a long mustache". Wound My Heart With Monotonous Languor That
line above is from Verlaine: The
long sobs of autumn's violins wound my heart with a monotonous languor.
And, although you may not know that line if you are not a devotee
of French symbolist poetry, you may know it from the movie about the
Normandy Invasion, The
Longest Day. The reading of the second line (wound my heart
with a monotonous languor) on BBC radio signaled to the French
Resistance that the allied invasion would occur within hours. With that,
the French set about destroying rail lines, communications, and other
German targets to pave the way for liberation. “… wound my heart with a languor monotonous”The nineteenth century French poet Paul Verlaine fairly early on in his career penned a brief example of said art entitled Chanson d’Automne which translates more or less into Song of (or for) Autumn. A literal translation of the poem reads as thus:
Cheery little ditty, what say? Life isn’t all lollipop dreams in a cotton candy sky. There are miserable times through which we all pass. While we’ve all heard Psalm 23 so many times it’s in danger of becoming a cliché, the words “though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death” should never be glossed over. We have faced, are facing, and will face heartache on a scale unimaginable beforehand. Such is the price of being human. It must be noted the poem has another meaning entirely unrelated to its content. “Wound my heart with a languor monotonous” was the code phrase used by the Allies in World War Two to let the French Resistance know that D-Day was at hand. It is somewhat ironic that such a melancholy line was a signal that liberation and freedom were here. Nevertheless there it was. One of faith’s elements found puzzling by those who sadly have never tasted the sweet wine of a relationship with Christ is how the believer can endure sometimes unspeakable hardship and horror, yet remain steadfast in thought, deed and word that there is a loving God. The natural tendency is to see the wounds and think a loving God would never permit His children to suffer in such a fashion. Yet it is this selfsame suffering that brings the believer closer to God rather than drive them away. The heart that knows Christ has the ability, no matter the obstacles placed in its way by others and self, to see eternity. Fully understand, no. Now we see through a glass darkly, as Paul wrote to the church at Corinth. But we still see. The heart that knows Christ, throughout its time on this planet, comes to accept how suffering is not only unavoidable but vital for growth. Like it? No. Need it? Yes. We need it for understanding of both self and others. When one understands we live in a world where humanity is both possessor of free will and by dint of its imperfection not only separated from God but also inclined toward doing evil, the question of why are there times of sorrow is answered. It comes with life. How we respond, though, is of utmost importance. Only those who have been through the fire can speak with authority to those still engulfed in flames. Be it depression’s mind-sapping bitter brew or physical pain or illness’ screaming harpy digging its claws in deep, be it financial woes leaving one to wonder where the next meal is coming from and will there be a roof over their head come the morn, be it the unheard goodbye spoken to the departed or the devastation wreaked by the living having broken your heart; these and so many other sorrows are the fire. We have passed, are passing and will pass through one or more tongues of this flame. From them we are purified. With them as our backdrop we can extend the open hand to others, doing the work we are asked to do by the One with nail-pierced hands. We can comfort. We can encourage. We can love. Just as Verlaine’s verse expresses gloomy fatalism yet was the password to joy, so too are our trials. Do not demean your pain, for it is quite real. Yet at the same time bear in mind how the pain moves you toward Christ Who in turn moves you toward others feeling the same pain. We can bring them hope and healing even as others bring us hope and healing learned by passing through the fire. Now that’s poetry. |