awalkthroughwar

[awalkthroughwar]

Music, History and a Damp, Dark Hole in the Ground.

now this is a DAMN LONG READ so if you aren’t arsed, just scroll by. It’s just a wee bit of reflection.

I turn 21 in a week, and I feel like it’s time to reflect.

On what?

Anything and everything. The past few months, the past few years.

Heading to university, I thought it would be a complete trip. Going somewhere new and exciting? Great! Learning to live by myself! Great!

Wrong. Duh.

It was great, at first. I enjoyed this new place I’d never even heard of, the university I’d gotten into purely because they were the only one I’d applied to which offered the foundation year and offered me a place without GCSE Maths (GCSEs do matter a bit, kids.) I met new people, I enjoyed acting like an 18 year old, I enjoyed the wild nights in and the wild nights out. Until my mind began to fall apart.

I’d been in CBT prior to heading to university, when I was 17. I’d broken down in about May, confessed I felt terrible, and was quickly taken to the doctors. After a few sessions, I happened to miss a phone call meaning I missed my appointment. With me going on holiday after that, and moving away, I was signed off. I just accepted it, I was sure I was fine and cured. Not the case, unfortunately. It isn’t a cure. It’s a means of coping, and unfortunately as we’d focused on my anxiety which stretched to the point I was too scared to open a door for fear I pulled it and it was in fact a push, it meant that we’d not really focused on my low mood. So my low mood grew, despite how much I tried to ignore it. I had met new people, but I was still alone down there. I was from the North East, I’d moved to Preston in the North West where it felt like everyone knew each other. It was a full year before I actually came across another Geordie. So the loneliness manifested itself in maybe too many nights out, and the inability to pay attention in my lectures. I’d write notes but I wasn’t even taking it in. After some medication, I felt better. I’ll always be thankful for the woman on my course who fully supported me and even came to the doctors with me when I was too anxious. I was already on more medication for extreme pains to the point I’d collapse and throw up, so it was nothing different to me.

But I came off my medication once I turned 19, because I couldn’t afford it. I felt great, I felt ‘normal’ to an extent. But the next year was to bring the worst. It started off with isolation. After a few months, things quickly got messy and I was alone. I felt like even the people who were with me, weren’t. I’d just got a job, which was a great way of meeting people and getting out of the awful flat, but that was itself taxing and I had more than a couple of panic attacks in the year and a half I worked there. But the real kicker came in February, when the isolation was felt all the more when I was referred to the hospital for tests after finding a lump in my breast. A month of torment followed, being alone knowing my family were 3 hours away in the car, and then another month following my biopsy of waiting for the results. Thankfully clear, and I count myself incredibly lucky, but it was an eye opener.

I completely lost myself after that, no matter how positive I tried to be everything concerned me. Every little change, everything new. I started to feel like I really needed my medication again and on my wage I could thankfully afford it – but even then I didn’t take it. Because I was scared of ‘changing’. I was scared of being annoying when going through the side effects, and driving away the only people I had. The only change I wanted was to be perfect for other people, so I stopped dying my hair, I stopped wearing certain clothes, I stopped listening to certain music. I enjoyed my time at home thoroughly, being around my family and friends and finally going to Dublin for turning 20. But I look back at pictures now, and I feel like I can see the mask. My brown hair, my ‘grown up’ clothes and my tame makeup all feel like some façade. It only got worse, with my biggest low coming as soon as freshers came in September. Realising, even though I thought I’d found people, I hadn’t and it just wasn’t the place for me despite how much I’d done to fit there. I started back on my medication, but kept spiralling to the point I was on the highest dosage – which as of writing this I still am. I had sleeping pills as I couldn’t sleep at night, I lost a considerable amount of weight and lost all my focus. Work became an escape and I focused more on that than anything.

But then came the music. In May 2017, Paramore had released ‘After Laughter’ and after seeing them in the academy, I realised how much of their music I related to still, even though I’d tried hard not to listen to them because it was ‘mosher music’ and didn’t fit who I was trying to be. But in January 2018, they came back to the arena, and I met up with someone I’d known for years. I wore what I felt like, to match the mood of the music, I covered myself in glitter, and I danced the whole time. I went for drinks with my friends and met more people, and Paramore had pulled me and my friends together again after a while of distant conversations. I will be forever thankful for that, and forever thankful for my friends. I met them in college, and I don’t want anymore of my life without them. I also started talking to everyone I had spoken to on twitter, people I would consider extremely dear friends of mine. In an effort to not look odd I tried to abandon twitter but truth is I love too many people on there.

Two weeks later, I’d bleached my hair. A small step to some, but huge to me. I’d not touched my hair for 2 years by that point. I bleached it, I toned it, I dyed it lilac. It turned purple, but it was a new colour. I made do. Then when that washed out, I went peach. Then pink. Then dark pink. Just like I used to. I started wearing bright clothing, patterned socks shown off proudly in a funky pair of vans and some rolled up jeans, more colour in my makeup. I started putting on weight again, I started listening to everything I used to listen to. I went home every few weekends to meet up with my friends, meet up with my family and attend things with my mam. My family had noticed the difference in me, and say to me now they can see how much happier I am when I’m home. That February had shaken us all a bit, but they’d dropped everything and driven down to be with me.

Now, comes the joy.

Around May time, an article was put in the Chronicle. I’m a social media addict, and was scrolling through facebook when I noticed it. But I didn’t pay much attention, as I was trying to focus on getting the last of my work done. But then I was lying in bed after quitting my job, unable to sleep and wondering what I was doing, when I saw it again on my history twitter (something I set up to keep my mind focused on history and keep my interest up) I couldn’t ignore it this time, and I read the article. They were looking for volunteers. The Victoria Tunnel, this dark, damp hole in the ground I’d previously visited in 2013 and lived above up until the age of 12, were looking for new guides. I sent an email, barely even thinking about what I was doing, and got a swift reply asking me to fill out a form. Unfortunately I experienced a dip, and left it a while, but two weeks later once I filled it in and sent it back, I was surprised to get a reply to say could I come in. Once I was back at home, I went along, and within an hour I was being shown around the tunnel by Kelly.

Kelly is currently one of the lights in my life. She is a complete rock, a Geordie made of sterner stuff, and has firmly set me on my way to being me again. She works for the trust, but started out as a volunteer too. She instantly made me feel safe, and at home, and we spent a good hour in the tunnel just looking around. I went home excited, despite the different things trying to bring me down, and had already signed up to come along and follow along a few tours and get a feel of things.

It was terrifying. It was out of my comfort zone. In university, my anxiety is so bad I don’t do presentations in front of my peers, I do them alone for my lecturers in their offices. But now, in July, I do the WWII section of the tour. I walk people through the Ouseburn Valley and give them a history, I tell them about the war, and I tell them about the tales of the tunnel in the war. I even get a couple of laughs from people.

I spend most of my time now in a dark, damp hole in the ground and it puts me at peace. I don’t get any signal on my phone, I can’t hear the outside world, no one is judging me. People are there to hear the history of the tunnel, not judge who I am. Kelly helped me realise that very quickly and she along with other guides and Bobby have made sure that I am completely comfortable, and completely myself. We even went down the tunnel for a radio show by ourselves to see if any spooks were out – when would I ever have willingly gone down a tunnel alone talking on a radio program? Even more astounding, I make phone calls now. Yes, I pick up the phone, I talk to people. Something I was never able to do until I became a tour guide. I’m still a trainee, I’m still working on the Victorian section – numbers have never been my thing so unfortunately that’s been slightly more difficult to master(GCSE Maths result speaks for itself) but I’ve never felt so confident and fulfilled in my life.

Making it to 21 is wild, and I have so much more I could say, but I’ve rambled on far too long and it’ll be a boring read as it is. I’ve never written anything like this, but I’m hoping I can read it in a few years and be exactly who I want to be and where I want to be. I hope someone else reading this will be too, and see that it gets a bit better.

All my love to anyone who needs it,

Georgia x (Bee, as a few people call me.)

[awalkthroughwar]

Germans Call Off Their Last Offensive

British machine gunners attacking a German plane on July 16 at Les Essarts, about ten miles south of the German bridgehead across the Marne.

July 16 1918, Dormans–The German offensive aimed at Rheims had not had the hoped-for result; Ludendorff was “very wad about the paltry outcome.”  Attacks east of Rheims were quickly called off, but the Germans attempted to continue from their new bridgehead across the Marne on the 16th.  However, their artillery would need to cross the Marne to provide sufficient support, and the French were able to bring reserves west now that the Germans had stopped attacking in Champagne.  On the evening of the 16th, Ludendorff called off the offensive.  One of his staff officers wrote in his diary: “Fairly depressed mood.  Difficult question–what is to happen from now on?”  Ludendorff wanted to proceed with Operation Hagen in Flanders, and drove north to meet with Crown Prince Rupprecht the next day.  In the meantime, the Germans’ bridges across the Marne came under heavy artillery and aerial bombardment (as had the Austrians’ on the Piave), and they began preparations to abandon their sole gain in the battle.

Today in 1917: Bolshevik-Inspired Uprising in Petrograd Today in 1916: 50,000 National Guard on Mexican Border Today in 1915: D’Annunzio Made Official War Chronicler; Maria Luisa Perduca’s The Vigil Today in 1914: Russians Gain Increasing Evidence of Austrian Plans

Sources include: David Stevenson, With Our Backs to the Wall; Robert B. Asprey, The German High Command at War

[awalkthroughwar]

Ouseburn School at Ballast Hill, Byker, taken 13th July 2018. 

(all information from Ouseburn Heritage book and own knowledge)

Two pieces of history to this land, but we’ll start with the more obvious - The Ouseburn School.

The school opened in 1893 and served 928 scholars, the lower years on the bottom floor of the school and on the first floor the upper years. The top floor was used for ‘technical’ work such as cookery and sewing. It closed in the 1960s and was left derelict up until it reopened in 1993, 100 years after the school first opened, as a business centre. Though unseen in these pictures the roof has a unique design, resembling Eastern temples. The architect for this building was Frank Rich, whose work can also been seen in the form of St Gabriel’s in Heaton as well as Bolbec Hall, and the total cost of building this ‘simple and effective’ building was just over £17000.

There is an older history on this site, however, and that’s not as obvious to people at first glance.

The area is known as Ballast Hill, due to the mounds of ballast deposited in the area from the ships coming in. But the field itself has 3 names, it’s true name being Ballast Hill Graveyard. Other names it’s known by are Plaguey Fields and Grannies Park by the locals. Creepy, right?

The graveyard was opened possibly as early as 1609 as a non-conformist graveyard for Newcastle, as the area had seen a large influx of Scottish families and overseas workers coming to live and work. The earliest headstone that can be found is that of Oliver, listed as 1708 - Though if you look at the field you’ll notice there are no headstones standing. It was used right up until the Cholera epidemic of 1853, with the last recorded burial in this time, but it had uses not only as a graveyard for water-men and their families in the area but also as a plague pit for victims of the 17th century plague outbreak (hence the nickname Plaguey Fields) but issues were beginning to be seen during the 1780s as children were playing amongst the headstones and pigs were frequently seen grubbing up the ground. To rectify this a boundary wall was built as well as gates and a grave diggers house.

The Newcastle Courant (predecessor of the Newcastle Chronicle) stated on March 25th 1825 that from 1818 to 1824 there had been more burials in Ballast Hill alone than in all graveyards in Newcastle, and the site had to be enlarged in 1827. 

Grannies Park was a nickname earned in the 1930s, when the Corporation of the area laid the graveyard out as a children’s playground. The remaining tombstones (around 200 or so) were laid down as flagging for the paths you see today, however the graves left standing by the school are those of the non-conformist ministers. 

Rumour has it, the ground is haunted and with the amount of people left to rest there it’s no wonder these rumours began - but on a wonderfully sunny evening like friday the area is quiet and beautiful. 

If you ever go, what’s the oldest gravestone you can find?

[awalkthroughwar]

Another church, of which the name I didn’t get. A+ work on my part.

[awalkthroughwar]

Newcastle upon Tyne 2006, Tyne and Wear, England

photography by cityhopper2

[awalkthroughwar]

Newcastle upon Tyne, Tyne and Wear, 2006,  England

photography by cityhopper2

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Wallsend, England ship repair dry docks. 26th March 1987.

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Palace of Versailles, France (by Svetla)

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Infantryman by Harry Everett Townsend

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Theresa May Announcement

Theresa May will pursue a plan to call a snap General Election on the 8th of June.

She will require 2/3 of the House of Commons to vote for it.

[awalkthroughwar]

British Politics is about to get interesting again.

After promising for weeks that no snap election would’ve been called, Theresa May has actually gone and done it now that she’s seen the polls are well in her favour. Nice of her to repeat what David Cameron said last election about Ed Miliband and stability. The only good outcome of this is that if Labour lose (which I believe they inevitably will) we might get another leadership election.

[awalkthroughwar]

Avro Lancaster Night Bomber

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USS Ward (APD-16, ex-DD-139) on fire after she was hit by a “Kamikaze” in Ormoc Bay, Leyte, 7 December 1944. She sank later in the day. Exactly three years earlier, on the morning of 7 December 1941, while on patrol off Pearl Harbor, Ward fired the first shot of the Pacific War.

[awalkthroughwar]

Murder Victim — Mob Hit

via reddit

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Messerschmitt Bf 109 K-4

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‘Boycott British Goods and Courts’ protest in Dublin.

Irish Civil War Period - Early 1920s

[awalkthroughwar]

British plotting room, 1943. Women were an integral part of the British war effort, serving in significant numbers with the RAF as Women’s Auxilliary Air Force in radar operations.  Women served with the RCAF as well, but as Canada was not as mobilised as Britain, their service was less widespread.  That said, the British model of radar operations was used for the manning of the Pine Tree Line, which was established in the early ‘50s, with women serving in at PTL bases across Canada.