For sale is an interesting WW2 British Home Front Bridget O’Leary Declares War 1939 Mounted Article. There is also an incredibly faded photo in the bottom right hand corner, this did come out of a frame but the from was badly broken, and this was taken out from it. The article states the following:
BRIDGET O'LEARY DECLARES WAR BY ANDREW SOUTAR. she ses to me, "Mrs. O'Leary, ye've been kind to me this day. but there's trouble brewin'. Would ye let me walk back wid yer as far as me doorstep?" An' what did I say, Father? I ses, "What is it Mister Chambylin (God bless him) ses, an' he isn't speakin' through There was a war on the Home Front, and the benign old padre didn't mind to be told who had issued the ultimatum. There she stood, with her brawny arms akimbo, er grey ing, defiant Irish head thrown back on her powerful shoulders, On the other side of the broken yard fence, a knot of scowling neighbours were holding a council of war, turning their gaze now and then to size up the fighting strength of Bridget O'Leary. his umbrelly, neether? He ses: 'We're not at war wid the Jarmian people but wid the tyrants who've stolen their free dom and want to sell the rest of the world into slavery," he ses. An' I ses to her: "I'll walk home wid ye and I'll hould yer hand. An' if so be one of them crows opens her ugly trap, I'll push a fist straight down her throat, so I will" "Mrs. O'Leary," the padre said reprovingly, "is there not enough bloodshed and rancour in the world, to-day, that ye would live at war with your neighbours? What is your small quarrel that it can't be settled until such time as men have found their reason?" And Mrs. O'Leary spoke her mind, leaving the padre wondering if her grievance was only a small, or a vital part of the wrack and confusion in Europe. An', Father, I ses to her, "This is no war 'twixt Jarman women and British women. We don't hate for the sake of hatin'. We're sisters under the skin," I ses. "And every Jar man woman, like every British woman-if her soul be clean an' good-can see the bodies of the babes these scoundrels murthered in Poland, For meself," I ses, "I can hear their cries and feel their little mangeld fingers and bleedin' lips groping for the breast that's mine." An' that's how it is wid us women, Father. "Tis not a bad woman I am, Father-ye'll give me that. If me tongue wags like the tail of a blind fiddler's dog, 'tis because I've somethin' to say bust. I lost me man Dennis in the last war; he was a good man and an honest and loved his king, as I do. Mabbe he could pick up a fight quicker'n most men, but take the Sattyder noights out of his lfie and the drink out of his skin, and he was a husband to be proud of. I takes her home, Father, and goes indoors wid her. The place is as clean as a fish-plate when a Dublin barber's cat has finished wid it. Not much more'n a chair an' a table in the room and she ses to me she's worked hard for twenty year to When me Dennis "stopped one" in France, I cursed the war and the Jarmans and all them that turned hell loose on the bring her boy along. No sign of food that I could see, Father, and her face that pale and pinched I was ashamed of me own as I stood there. No fire in the grate-she ses the cold don't matter and coal world. Me boy, Brian, was a babe in me arms them days, and on'y yesterday I stood in the street and watched him march away wid his regiment, like the true O'Leary he is. Not a tear in me eye, Father, no matter what was goin' on in me heart. I was as proud to see him there as his father would have been. cost a sight of money. An' when I turns to leave her, she puts a hand on me arm, Father, an' "Mrs. O'Leary," she ses, an' the tears is runnin' down her cheeks, "Mrs. O'Leary, if ye'll pray for my boy, I'll Now look at them scowlin' pickled crows on the other side. of the fence, Father. That fence is me Maggynot Line, so it is. An they can have that stinkin dump of theirs for their Siggyfrid, so they can. An I ses to them: "Show yer ugly snouts in No. Man's Land, an' I'll bury the lot of ye in yer gas masks, I ses. "Though from the cut of yer jibs I'm not like to know if yer. wearin' masks," I ses. pray for yours." An' we knelt down on the bare floor, Father side by side. Look at the sluts, now, Father. Glarin' and mutterin 'cause Bridget O'Leary walked and talked wid that little Jar man woman. Leave 'em to me, Father. Me ultimatum expires the moment ye've turned the corner of the street. An', Father, do ye go an' see that little woman at Number Why am I at war with 'em, Father? 'Cause when I was standin in the street wavin' me boy Brian good-bye, I had by me side the little Jarman woman that lives two doors away. She lost her man fightin' agin the Allies twenty odd year agone. Seven. An' an' would ye slip this twelve shillin' into her hand. Twould look better comin' from ye, a man of God. Don't ask me if I can spare it, Father.....the lan'lord can wait or get the hell out of it. That's Bridget O'Leary. and she's lived in England ever since. An', hark ye, Father she had a babe in her arms then, same as me. An' that babe was marchin' away yesterday, side by side with me Brian-fightin' for the Allies, praise be. An' when we'd see'd 'em march away, the little Jarman woman ses to me:"Tis not the Jarman people yer fightin' this time, Mrs. O'Leary," she ses. "Tis the blackguards that murthered th' sculs of the Jarman people before settin' out to murther th' rest of the nations. The Hitlers an' the Gurrins and the Gobbles," ses she.. "I've lived here twenty year and taught me boy to love the king an' the counthry that gave us refuge," she ses, "but some of the neighbours seem to 've dug up ould memories an' they're not kind to me," she ses. Now, Father, she see'd the bunch of flowers in me hand and ses: "Ye didn't fling 'em to yer boy, Mrs. O'Leary." I towld her I was taking 'em round the corner to the little cennytaph for this was the anniversary of the day me Dennis was killed in action, twenty odd year agone. "May I walk wid yer, Mrs. O'Leary?" ses she. An when I was puttin' the flowers cown and makin' the sign, she ses, "Would ye give me a couple, Mrs. O'Leary?" she ses. I give her a few and she kissed 'em and placed 'em on the cenny taph next to mine and ses: "God bless ye, Karl." An I ses, "Woman, yer husband doesn't lie here." An' she nes, "No more does yours, Mrs. O'Leary, but memories do." An' when we turned to walk away, she sees them neigh hours watchin' and scowlin' same as they're doin' now, An' 1939
The photographs make up part of the description, I will describe the item the best I can and to the best of my knowledge. As the buyer please view the photos carefully before purchasing. Guaranteed original or money back. This will be sent via special delivery and dispatched within two to three working day’s. Also happy to post world wide.