text:
$8.9M grant for RBHS stalls
General Assembly takes a pass on funding, for now
Share on Facebook |
Share on Twitter |
There was both good and bad news for Riverside-Brookfield High School District 208 coming from Illinois General Assembly's spring legislative session, which ended last week.
The good news is that a plan to shift the employer portion of the costs for teacher pensions from the state of Illinois to local school districts was not approved or even ultimately brought to a vote.
The bad news for RBHS is that the legislature did not authorize the bonding authority necessary to allow the state to pay District 208 an $8.9 million school construction grant the district applied for about nine years ago.
RBHS now ranks fifth of the list of school districts waiting to receive money from the Illinois Capital Development Board, but that money is still beyond the district's grasp.
The state legislature did reauthorize the grants, but did not approve any funding mechanism to pay the grants.
"There was no school construction bond authorization this time," said state Rep. Michael Zalewski (D-Riverside), who has been spearheading an effort to get RBHS the money. "That's probably the simplest way I can say it."
With the state's backlog of unpaid bills approaching $8 billion, the legislature didn't authorize the debt certificates to fund the grants.
But Zalewski said he will keep fighting for the money.
"I'm going to keep working on it and try and get it done in the fall," Zalewski said. "RB isn't the only school that's in this predicament. There's a bunch and so it doesn't make any sense for us to do roads and bridges and not go back for construction that they already did."
District 208 officials have never counted on receiving the money, so the failure of the legislature to come through with the money will not affect the budget plans they have made.
"We're preparing to go forward, worst case scenario, that we won't see that money," said District 208 Superintendent Kevin Skinkis.
Zalewski said that he was surprised that the capital bill came over to the House without the funding for school construction grants.
"I was given green arrows all the way up until two days before the end of the session that the money was going to be in there," Zalewski said. "It wasn't until [May 31] that I got some feelers that it wasn't going to be in there, and that was what was disappointing."
An effort led by House Speaker Mike Madigan (D-Chicago) and, originally, by Gov. Pat Quinn to shift teacher pension costs to local school districts went nowhere when faced with opposition from many suburban and downstate legislators, who feared that it would eventually result in substantial increases in local property taxes.
In the last days of the legislative session, Quinn abandoned the pension cost shift proposal and tried to round up enough Democratic votes on a pension reform bill without it. He was not successful when Madigan refused to support a major reform bill without the pension cost shift provision.The state legislature may reconvene this summer in a special session to have another go at pension reform.
Reader Comments
0 Comments - Add Your Comment
Note: RBLandmark.com requires you to login with Facebook to comment.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
The National Transportation Safety Board last week recommended that states lower their threshold for drunken driving with the goal of reducing alcohol-related fatal crashes, which have held steady for much of the past 15 years.
A former manager of the Tioga Apartments has admitted to embezzling thousands of dollars in rent money at the historic building, according to the Merced Police Department.
Pyrotechnics companies stand to make thousands from local fireworks vendors, as an ordinance legalizing "safe and sane" fireworks in unincorporated Merced County is on track for the Board of Supervisors' approval.
Students with a stellar record of academic achievement were recognized Sunday at the Merced College Foundation Scholarship Program's 35th annual awards ceremony.
Since 1971, Amtrak has carried most of California's passenger rail traffic on both standard long distance routes and short distance urban light rail routes.
The sound of a bagpiper playing "Amazing Grace" set a somber tone as members of law enforcement gathered to honor fallen officers at the 2013 Merced County Peace Officer Memorial ceremony. See the video below. Click here for a photo gallery.
As UC Merced concludes its eighth academic year and prepares to award degrees to another outstanding class of graduates this weekend (today and Sunday), I am pleased to provide our neighbors and the greater Merced community with an update on our physical expansion plans in the face of rapidly growing student demand for admission.
Amanda Alarcon Banks likes to spend her afternoons crawling on her stomach trying to avoid touching dangling wires carrying live electrical current.
Even before April 27, when 8-year-old Leila Fowler was fatally stabbed in her home near Valley Springs, the Fowler family had troubles.
Azusa city officials say a rock-mining company will begin its dig in the foothills above the San Gabriel Valley after controversy delayed the project for three years.


text:
The staff were all very friendly and the hotel was spotless. The room was quite comfortable and had a decent chair (I can't stand sitting on the bed!) the bed was comfortable and the shower very good. The only thing missing was no tea or coffee making facilities ion the room. The meals were good but like most airport hotels... More
- Also Known As:
- Landvetter Airport Gothenburg
- Hotel Landvetter Airport
- Reservation Options:
- TripAdvisor is proud to partner with Hotels.com, Booking.com, Expedia, Orbitz, Priceline, Travelocity, Tingo and Venere so you can book your Landvetter Airport Hotel reservations with confidence. We help millions of travelers each month to find the perfect hotel for both vacation and business trips, always with the best discounts and special offers.


text:
Red Wing Ian White knew injury was bad right away
Ian White returned to the locker room Friday after severing a tendon in his left knee in Tuesday's loss to the Dallas Stars.
"It's kind of depressing that something like this happens so early in the season when you start getting your legs under you and have a setback for a couple of weeks," White said. "It doesn't make you feel very good. But other than I'm in good spirits."
White, who will be out 2-3 weeks, has yet to watch the video of the incident, but he knew right away it was bad.
"I was the third man back, it was a two-on-two, I think one of our guys got beat and they were taking the puck to the net and I kind of started crashing the net," White recalled. "Howie made a great save and I took the heel of his skate right at the top of the knee.
"It could have been a lot worse," White continued. "You have a tendon going right over your knee cap. It just missed it. I guess if I would have cut that I might have been the season. Lucky, if you will."
Send comments to email@example.com, follow him on twitter @redwingsfront and visit his blog at redwingsfront.wordpress.com
Detroit Sports By Bleacher Report
See wrong or incorrect information in a story. Tell us here
Local Guide
Business Name
Location, ST | website.com
Social Wire
National Sports Videos
Top Sports Stories
- Detroit Tigers ready to start a fresh new season WITH VIDEO
- Red Wings: Helm to make season debut against Wild
- Detroit Red Wings welcome a few healthy bodies back
- Red Wing Ian White knew injury was bad right away
- Super Bowl XLVII Madden simulation: David Akers kicks 49ers to win
- PAULA PASCHE: An off-season look at Detroit Lions Ndamukong Suh, Titus Young, Matthew Stafford
- PAT CAPUTO: Criticism of Tigers' Dombrowski, Leyland has proven to be misguided WITH VIDEO
Recent Activity on Facebook
Blog Center
Lions Lowdown
We love them. We hate them. We love to suffer over them, but they are our Detroit Lions. Paula Pasche discusses the team fans want so desperately to return to its glory years as they rebuild.
Open Book
Pat Caputo is a sports columnist for The Oakland Press who covered the Tigers from 1986-98, and the Lions from 1998-2002.
Out of Left Field
A sometimes-irreverent look at Detroit's Boys of Summer, the Tigers, as they try to win their first American League Central title.
Beyond the Track
Matt Myftiu is news editor at The Oakland Press and has a background in sports writing and has had an unhealthy addiction to anything NASCAR for more than a decade.
Burney's Bytes
Scott M. Burnstein, covered high school sports for both the Detroit Free Press and the Oakland Press, and is the author of the 2006 regional best-selling book, The Motor City Mafia - A Century of Organized Crime in Detroit.
Red Wings Front
Chuck Pleiness posts news about injuries, line combinations, transactions, who's starting and who's scratched. Follow the Red Wings along with Chuck Pleiness.
The Back Page
Paul Kampe, a copy editor and page designer for The Oakland Press, is responsible for laying out the paper, hunting down spelling and grammatical errors and occasionally covering high school sports in Oakland County.


text:
Busy Vegan: Vegan Meatball Sandwich
Posted in Busy Vegan, Convenience Foods, Entrees, Kid-Friendly, Meat Substitutes, Quick & Easy, Recipes | No Comments »Another bad picture. All I can say is, I was hungry.
This is a super simple sandwich that tastes like there was a ton of effort put into it, minus the effort. I think this would be good with some sauteed onions as well, but hubs isn't a huge fan of them, so I left them off the menu this time. Really, you could add in all kinds of additional veggies, if you prefer (green peppers, spinach, etc.). Get creative!
Vegan Meatball Sandwich
8-10 Nate's Zesty Italian Meatless Meatballs
1 jar pasta sauce of choice
Daiya mozzarella style shreds
3 large portobello mushrooms
Garlic Gold (or vegan garlic butter)
1/2 tbs Earth Balance
2 Italian sandwich rolls or Hoagie buns
- Warm 1/2 – 2/3 jar of sauce in small saucepan
- Add frozen meatballs to sauce, cover and reduce heat to low. Simmer for about 10 min
- Meanwhile, slice mushrooms and melt butter in small pan
- Add mushrooms to butter and saute 5-6 min or until mushrooms are softened
- Coat each side of buns in garlic gold and place on small tray or baking sheet
- Add meatballs to each bottom bun. Spoon a line of sauce down the center of top buns. Add mushrooms and top with cheese
- Toast in a toaster oven or bake until cheese is melted
Yield: Serves 2


text:
The Lesley University Libraries provide high quality collections and information services in support of the University's research mission as well as the integration of academic and field-based learning.
Find Books & Media
Find Articles & Images
Research a Subject
Library Collections
Library Services
Library Policies
Library Main Page
Sherrill Library
Mon-Thur, 6/17-20 8:30am-10pmFri, 6/21 8:30am-6pmSat, 6/22 9am-6pmSun, 6/23 1pm-9pm
Sherrill Summer Hours (pdf)
AIB Library
Mon-Thur, 6/17-20 9am-7pmFri, 6/21 8am-6pmSat, 6/22 12:30pm-5:30pmSun, 6/23 9:30am-1:30pm
AIB Summer Hours (pdf)
Kresge Media
Mon-Fri, 6/17-21 9am-5pmSat, 6/22 ClosedSun, 6/23 Closed
Librarians are available to help:
Email Us
IM Us
Book a Workshop
Call Us: 617.349.88721.800.999.1959 x.8872
Sherrill Library: 617.349.8850
AIB Library: 617.585.6670
Kresge Media: 617.349.8860
University Archives: 617.349.8573
email: firstname.lastname@example.com
Job Opportunities
Library Mission
Have an iPad? Help us evaluate BrowZine. BrowZine allows you to browse and read current issues of many academic journals right from your iPad.
Download BrowZine from the App Store. Choose Lesley University from the list and login with your myLesley credentials.
Let us know what you think! Email your feedback to: firstname.lastname@example.com.


text:
The Golden State Warriors point guard sat out Wednesday night against the Miami Heat after spraining his twice surgically repaired ankle during the team's morning practice. Warriors coach Mark Jackson said Curry, who already had been nursing a sprained right knee, injured his ankle going for a loose ball.
The team said X-rays on Curry's ankle were negative. Jackson said the injury doesn't appear serious and he doesn't expect Curry to be sidelined long. Jarrett Jack started in Curry's place.
"It was really a freak injury," Jackson said. "I'm not a doctor, but I can't imagine it turning into something more. I won't get into timetables and all of that, but we're not concerned."
Curry was not in the locker room before the game during the portion open to reporters. A team spokesman said Curry was receiving treatment.
Curry had started all 36 games this season to get Golden State (23-13) off to its best start since the 1991-92 season. He is averaging 20.5 points, 6.6 assists and 4.2 rebounds.
In April, the team said Curry had an operation on his ankle that "consisted of cleaning out loose debris and scar tissue." The former Davidson star also had surgery to repair a tendon in his ankle in the summer of 2011 and often had problems while playing that next season.
Curry sat out the final two exhibition game this season as a precaution because of ankle issues. The
Also Wednesday, the Warriors said small forward Brandon Rush had surgery on his left knee. Rush was lost for the season when he tore two ligaments in his knee the second game of the season. He had been receiving treatment in preparation for surgery.
The team said it would have more details on Rush's operation Thursday after the team doctors had a chance to speak with the surgeon.


text:
What people are saying - Write a reviewUser ratings
Review: Closing Time: The Sequel to Catch-22 (Catch-22 #2)User Review - R�B - GoodreadsWell, CATCH-22 it ain't, friends. HOWEVER it is a decent story, and there are tiny sparks and remnants of CATCH-22's brilliance throughout. Some characters return (Chaplain Tappmann, Milo Minderbender ... Read full review Review: Closing Time: The Sequel to Catch-22 (Catch-22 #2)User Review - Leon - GoodreadsA darkly comic and ambitious sequel to the American classic *Catch-22.* In Closing Time, Joseph Heller returns to the characters of Catch-22, now coming to the end of their lives and the century, as ... Read full review Related books
Common terms and phrasesalready answered anymore arian asked better Bingam bomb bomber bus terminal called cancer chaplain Chaplain Tappman Claire Coney Island crazy dollars everything eyes face father feel felt floor Frances Beach friends fucking funny Gaffney German girls Glenda guess hear heard heavy water hell hospital hundred Hungry Joe joke keep Kenosha Kid Sampson kids knew laugh listen live look married McBride Melissa Michael Milo Minderbinder mother moved never night Noodles Cook nurse Pianosa plane Porter Lovejoy President Rabinowitz remember Rockefeller Center Sammy Singer Sergeant Towser shit smile someone soon Steeplechase Steeplechase Park stop Strangelove sure talk Tappman Teemer tell Temple of Dendur There's things thought Tilyou told tritium turned waiting walked wedding What's who'd wife Winkler Wintergreen woman women Yo-Yo Yoss Yossarian References to this bookFrom Google ScholarScottish Football Association or Sweet Fanny AdamsPekka Marjam�ki References from web pagesClosing time : a novel by Joseph Heller | librarything PAL: Joseph Heller (1923- 1999) JOSEPH HELLER Closing time: a novel; by Joseph Heller, Title Information Heller, Joseph. Catch-22. - Items in Stock Listing Left Coast Books at antiqbook.com Portrait of an Artist, as an Old Man ; Joseph Heller | librarything Joseph Heller on librarything | Catalog your books online Heller tweedehands boeken te koop Bibliographic information |


text:
Edit Profile
Who's Online
Edit Preferences
Watch Lists
Active Topics
View Profile
Active Posts
Unanswered Posts
About Us
News Archive
Mark Forums Read
Log Out
Daily News
SimHQ Community
After Action Reports
» The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Active Topics
You are not logged in. [
Log In
] [
Register User
Page 1 of 7
Topic Options
Rate This Topic
Hop to:
The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Captain Victor Timm RFC,
Calonne sur la Lys
2nd June 1915
Dear Marcus,
Thank you for the parcel which arrived the same day that I got back from leave in Derbyshire. I will be sure to make the best possible use of all the items sent over, and by way of return enclose a bottle of brandy purchased in Bruay-la-Buissiere, which I heartily recommend.
As I mentioned a little while ago to you, flying is becoming less safe recently, since the Huns started equipping their aircraft with machine guns. They have one particular device, the Fokker Monoplane, which has been giving people palpitations for a while now. Fortunately, our own dear BE's are armed in a similar way, with a forward firing machine gun, however things are not ideal, and Captain Wilshaw, my usual observer, frets constantly about the lack of rearward firing machine gun. I had to point out to him yesterday that when we arrived here last year, we didn't actually have any armament whatsoever, and nor did we need it, and that the BE wasn't exactly designed to be festooned with machine guns. I think the point was made, although he still grumbles.
We were up yesterday on a job down to an area between Bapaume and Albert, somewhat to our South. Not having seen one of these mythical Hun machines, and having heard that they're active in the area, I was a little nervous about leading the flight out. We settled in at about 9000 feet until I saw Colin gesticulating wildly off to port, pointing out some aircraft approaching from the East. Well, I thought, at long last, the Huns are skulking over! And so it turned out. There were a few of these monoplanes, probably Fokkers, but I believe that Pfalz make such a machine, so I signalled the flight to gain height and altered course slightly to ensure that we began our observations at the Albert end of the path, rather than the Bapaume one.
This rather shook off the Huns, and we circled over Albert and headed North East, only to find that they'd followed us and were trying to get in close to get at us. I wasn't very happy about this, and Wilshaw kept turning to look at me as though to say are we staying or going?. Anyhow, he busied himself with his plates and I kept an eye on the Huns. Fortunately, we weren't the only British planes in the area I could very distantly see No. 1 Squadron to the North and this clearly left them wondering quite what to do.
We flew up to Bapaume with these wretched Huns in tow, of sorts, only to find that there were, as we approached the town, two more flights of them, fortunately lower than us, but with an obvious intent to stop us snooping on them. Well, I thought, this might turn out to be a little tricky. I signalled a further rise in altitude, and heeled our 'plane over and headed back towards Albert, after which we would be done. I was now getting a little worried, I can tell you. The Hun aircraft are perfectly rotten devices, but given enough of them, I was sure that they'd be able to screw up their courage and make a rush at us.
I signalled everyone to close up tightly, which they managed without problems and as we reached Albert, I signalled a further increase in height, to around 12000 feet, which is more or less where the poor old BE has its limits. We did this and headed for home, however the Huns were having none of that and turned with us. I noticed that not all of my flight had been able to gain height, and were being seriously impeded by the Huns. Colin was shaking his head vigorously and pointing downwards, but I didn't want to run off to Bertangles, and I certainly didn't want my chaps threatened by these damn Huns, so I signalled to everyone that they should follow me, and, taking a very deep breath, lifted the safety latch on the Hotchkiss and headed towards the Huns.
It was clear that they had quite cleverly tried to bracket us between several of their flights, but they weren't expecting a mad charge by three BE's, it would seem! My two flight members who'd been subject to their approaches dropped out like stones, and we fired off random bursts at the Fokkers, which is what they turned out to be. Obviously, the Huns weren't very happy at our rescue attempt and followed us down in the direction of Doullens, so I signalled Lt Ashford to head North with everyone else, and I swung the BE round to have a word with our pursuers.
I can only assume that they were not prepared for such an eventuality, and one of their number, presumably dumbfounded, was silly enough to allow me to fire off half a drum from the Hotchkiss up and down his aeroplane. Inevitably, this had a rather deleterious effect on his machine, and he swung down trailing thick smoke near Lealvillers. I was delighted that this unexpected turn of events then apparently caused the other Huns to rush about as though they'd been attacked by a dozen Bristol scouts, rather than a solitary BE! Colin was pointing quite emphatically downwards now, goggles up, and my lip reading is now good enough to be able to tell you that not only did he wish me to land our 'plane, but also that he now harbours considerable doubts regarding my parentage. It was, though, too good a chance to miss, and I managed to pop off a few more rounds at one or two of our erstwhile attackers before I decided that Colin was right, and that I didn't wish to be the cause of him suffering a coronary failure, and so zoomed down to around 1000 feet, after which we saw the Germans no more.
So there you are, Marcus. Not quite the return to the Squadron that I'd expected, and the first time I've encountered airborne Huns in what is it? A year or more?- since I first arrived in France. We eventually arrived back at Merville-Calonne around half an hour later, and Colin told me in no uncertain terms that he was less than entertained by my antics, but then burst into laughter and told me that the Fokker we'd downed was half his. He then proceeded to tell me that he needed a Hotchkiss or Lewis of his own. We reported in and, several hours later, received a call from a battery not far from Lealvillers that they'd recovered the wreckage of a Fokker monoplane, having seen it fall out. I'm pleased to say that the Hun pilot was still alive, although a little shaken, and was sent to us under guard. He turned out to be a good sort of chap by the name of Hoffman who spoke reasonably good English on account of his prewar studies. He was as surprised that I had attacked him as I was that I'd actually downed him, and I couldn't help feeling that the Huns are probably pretty confident that these new Fokkers and Pfalzs are their means to causing us and the RNAS considerable trouble in the future.
Anyway, there I must end. I've bagged an entirely unexpected Hun, which you may tell the parents about, and have managed to risk my life like a silly ass, which you must not mention to them! I know that you are still pondering between Manchester to continue studying and joining up, and I would urge you, given what I've been told about life in the trenches, to take up the degree course at Manchester, particularly given their reputation with sciences.
I will write soon, and, I hope, enclose some photographs of the downed Hun aeroplane.
Your most affectionate brother,
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 05/25/06
Posts: 2184
Loc: Denmark
Good stuff, very atmospheric!
Looking for reviews, missions, info and campaigns for IL2 Battle of Stalingrad, War Thunder, IL2 Cliffs of Dover, or Battle of Britain II?
Only BoB GameHub has the CoD REDUX campaign, and Single Missions Megapack (50+ missions). Here you can also find the BOBII Whirlybird Missions Megapack.
10,000 downloads so far!
BoB Game Hub
WWII air combat videos
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: HeinKill
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Captain Victor Timm RFC,
Calonne sur la Lys
6th June 1915
Dear Marcus,
We were up again this morning. I took B flight up, with, as usual, Wilshaw as observer, the general idea being that we'd make our way down to Lens and observe what was going on at the front lines. However, the fates intervened and the day didn't quite turn out like that.
I have a couple of new pilots in my flight two second lieutenants who've joined us directly from Hendon, and whom I decided should come up on this job, since it's only a short hop to Lens from Merville where the squadron currently resides. In view of the recent appearance of Hun scouts in the area as you'll recall from my last letter I'd sat down with Colin to establish just what the best method is of evading the Huns might be, and how we can turn their tactics to our advantage. Over drinks, Colin had opined that two things had stood out when we last met up with the Hun single seaters: the first being that they're only really dangerous to us because their chaps have an unfettered view of us from their cockpits I have Colin's head stuck in front of me all the time and the second being that as long as we can evade their initial attacks and force them down to our height, then we have every chance of besting them.
Thus it was that we resolved that if we met any more Huns, Colin would signal to me where the Hun was should we be lucky enough to get one in front of us, thereby letting me know when best to fire, and thereby saving ammunition. The second thing we resolved on, particularly with new crews, was to keep together and to try to maintain as much height as possible in order to force the Fokkers to fight us on equal terms.
We briefed the new chaps and their obs, as well as Captain Phillips and Lieutenant Ashford who already know the ropes somewhat, concerning this new plan, to much sage nodding and general agreement that it might be a good and workable plan.
So we went off and I led everyone up until we were around 5000 feet up and heading towards Armentieres, prior to heading South towards our destination. We could see some of our own Bristol scouts No.1 Squadron, I think Colin said later which was something of a comfort. No sooner had we seen them sunning themselves and generally having a gay old time zooming round in their machines, when Colin was suddenly gesticulating like mad and pointing up towards the Sun. He has exceptional eyesight, and had noticed three monoplanes a couple of miles away, thankfully.
I tried to attract the attention of the Bristols by wing movements, however they seemed to be having far too good a time to actually be paying very much attention to their surroundings, and so drifted away, as the monoplanes came closer to us. I rather had wind up at this point, since they were higher up than us the only solution was to climb up and keep them in sight which Wilshaw did through field glasses, gesticulating wildly and indicating that the Fokkers were coming down towards us.
I signalled the flight to close up and perform a rising climb to starboard, which put the Huns at our three o'clock ie, dead on our right since I guessed that they wouldn't be happy to see us climbing and turning at the same time. And thus it was. One Fokker came screaming over our heads, not 100 feet from us, whilst the other two also overshot. I heeled our 'plane over hard to port and corkscrewed downwards towards the Huns, with Colin pointing at one who seemed to be in the best position to receive our ministrations. I suppose we must have dropped about 4000 feet, and then came up behind he Hun scout at around 500 feet or so. Wilshaw kept pointing him out then hunched down and to one side as I popped off rounds from the Hotchkiss. I could see bits and pieces detach themselves from the Fokker and having blazed away like a madman for a minute or so, the Hun started trailing smoke and losing height. I was sure I could hear Colin cheering, and when he turned round he did rather have a large smile on his face.
I looked round to find that both the other Huns had been sundered from each other's company and were being harried by the rest of the flight, and were clearly concerned only for their own survival, and thus didn't try to do anything other than run for it. I suspect that they might have been a little startled to have begun the fight with all the aces, only to find that they then had none up their sleeves, since, truth be told, even the BE can outmanouvre those things, and the BE is frightful in that respect.
We followed our Hun down, still smoking, and popped the rest of the ammo off at him, but that apparently made little difference to his descent. A minute or two later, the Fokker went into a tree and the wing tore off, turning the machine round and pitching it onto the deck.
By now, we were out of ammunition so it seemed foolhardy to continue, particularly given that the Huns would probably be looking for us with more scouts not an entirely appealing prospect so I signalled to B flight to make our way back to Merville where we landed some twenty minutes later.
When we alighted back at Merville and I'd taxied in, Colin was out of the 'plane in a flash and clapped me on the back, expressing delight at the outcome of our encounter and the success of our ruse. I think you could say that there was unrestrained pleasure in the flight at having bested a flight of Hun scouts without loss to ourselves and Major Douglas congratulated us on the exploit, adding that he'd have a chat with Major Grenfell over at No. 1 Squadron to ascertain why his chaps had not helped us. I retorted that we hadn't really needed help, but Douglas does have a point, so I wouldn't want to be one of the Bristol boys when words have been had with them.
As it turned out, A flight completed the job themselves and DHQ should receive the plates in the morning, so all in all, a rather successful day. Around lunchtime, Colin and I bagged a motorcycle and made our way over to the point where the Fokker had crashed. It seems that the poor chap flying it had died either in the final crash, or perhaps through prior wounds, and all that remained were one wing, some of the rear of the fuselage and the burnt out remains of the rest of the machine. A rather melancholy sight, that did make me shudder somewhat, since it might have been myself and Colin in our BE2c performing that particular role, had circumstances been only a little different.
We identified the aeroplane as coming from FA62, which I suppose is the equivalent of one of our scout squadrons. We did, however, manage to cut some identifying marks from the 'plane's rear fuselage which accompanied us back to Merville in the sidecar.
So there you have it another Hun downed, much to my satisfaction, although I dearly wish we could have brought him down alive, as we did with Herr Hoffman last time. Tonight, we're going into Saint-Floris to get steaming drunk to celebrate the day's work, so I imagine I will be rather delicate in the morning, but we have nothing on tomorrow except to perform some of the less exciting but equally necessary work at the Squadron.
Pass on my love to Mother and Father, and give them my reassurances that I am both well and quite happy with life at the moment.
Your loving brother,
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Captain Victor Timm RFC,
Calonne sur la Lys
3rd July 1915
Dear Marcus,
I thought that you might like to know what has been happening out here in sunny France since last we communicated. I received your latest parcel nearly two weeks ago but wasn't aware of it as I was rendered hors de combat when our undercarriage struck an Eindecker near Bruay which put me into hospital for a while. Wilshaw was fine, and it was he that pulled me from our BE after I'd wrestled it down onto the deck, I'm pleased to say.
Needless to say, after that he came to the hospital and we spoke at length about the problem we now have with Hun scouts. We've lost a few pilots and rather more machines to the Huns because, it seems to me, that they are adapting to the new style of warfare better than we are. The net result is that we receive new pilots, they fly several times, and then they are no more. I tried to fathom this with Colin who pointed out that we don't attack the Huns when they come over, preferring to continue on our jobs and therefore disregarding the position into which we thereby put ourselves. I felt that he spoke good sense in this matter and upon my discharge back to the squadron - by the way, you mention my hospitalisation to the parents at risk to your life - I sought out Sholto to discuss the matter. He's a level headed sort of chap, and has agreed that once I have 30 hours flying up in combat that he will be happy for me to go back to England as an instructor, and then afterwards to train up on scouts to put some of my ideas into train. I spoke to Colin about this, and he was most unhappy with this prospect. He's certainly the best obs in No. 2, but he doesn't want to fly with another pilot, and certainly not some of the greenhorns that we've received of late. I can't really blame him and we spoke further about what this might portend for him. At length, he finally conceded that his obsession with having something to pop off at Huns with was a manifestation of his wish to fly, and thus we saw Major Douglas about it. He wasn't happy at the prospect of losing a flight commander and his best obs, but saw the thrust of the argument, and thus once I have 30 hours up, Colin will also return to England in order to learn how to fly and thereby gain his wings.
That is how things now stand. I was fortunate enough to down another Hun yesterday, who went down in the middle of a village - I believe that no-one in the village was harmed - but it simply brought home to me the fact that my temperament might be more suited to flying scouts, particularly given that I've spent so much time in two seaters, and I suspect that once I've trained up on scouts I will be the happier for it. Wilshaw is rather torn, given that his skills will be missed, but, I think, rather like me, he is becoming somewhat frustrated by matters as they stand, and that we must act as we see fit. Thank God that Sholto is in accordance with our thinking.
Given our present hours and probable activity, it's likely that I will be back in England within a month or so, so I shall be able to take some leave and come to visit for a while. I'm delighted that you have been taken up at Manchester, and I hope very much that the engineering course will, in due course, be the perfect release for your talents.
Please let mother and father know that I should be back before too long, if all goes well, and in any case, take care of them and yourself. I'll write to you presently once things have settled down over here. I must end now as I have to take up some of our newest arrivals to give them the guided tour of the area and to introduce them thereafter to the Mess. Wish me luck!
Affectionately yours,
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Captain Victor Timm,
Calonne sur la Lys,
7th July 1915
Dear Marcus,
I hope that this letter finds you well. I'm still in one piece, although it seems that the gods are conspiring against me getting home safe and well. We were up again today on a recon job up at Lille, more or less over the front, and I had strict instructions from Sholto that there were to be no heroics, and that the new chap, Lt Russell, was to be treated with kid gloves. He's the replacement for 2nd Lt Hawes, who was with us for all of one job before he got picked off by a Fokker a few days ago. Such is our life out here.
We took off past eight and headed North at around 6000 feet. The fields are currently full of red poppies you never saw such a sight I can tell you - and we headed up towards Armentieres with Colin keeping a sharp look out. Good thing too, as he was soon waving and pointing to the East from which we could see a number of aeroplanes converging on our flight. It very soon became apparent that there was a scrap going on with Bristol Scouts and Hun monoplanes zooming around and giving each other what for. My initial reaction was that we should continue to follow our heading but it quickly became apparent that there were more 'planes from both sides ahead I counted at least a dozen or more and that we were in the most frightful situation. I fairly had wind up, and if it hadn't been for Wilshaw relaying the information back in our little pilot/observer code, I think I would have declared the job dud and sought the solace of Terra Firma.
However, Colin found us a way through the scrap we were too low to intervene and we continued Northwards, which did us no good as yet another formation of Huns suddenly hove into sight, and I realised that we would not be having a good day. They were entangled with our chums from No. 1, and I recognised them as Fokkers from FA62. We climbed like mad, and found ourselves in the middle of the most awful melee, with BEs, Bristols and Huns all wheeling and zooming round, trying to find an opening. My flight kept with me as though glued on, and we turned to face the crowded sky. What a sight! I shan't forget it any time soon. Presently, Colin pointed out a Hun somewhat below us, and I sideslipped in behind him and fired off a long burst or two. His kite began to lose height and emit smoke, but no sooner than this happened, a pair of Bristol Scouts cut in in front of me and started popping off at the Hun. Well, I tell you! My dander was up and I leapfrogged the first Bristol and started blazing away over the head of the second. Quite sensibly, he pulled hard to port and I gave the Fokker a long burst.
Pulling away, I lost sight of the Hun, but Wilshaw waved at me and gestured downwards: below the Hun scout, now engulfed with flames, was spiralling down to his doom. A terrible sight that will remain with me until I die, I suspect. There was, however, no time to dwell on this and I wrenched the BE upwards and starboard and signalled to B flight to close up on me. The Bristols appeared to have the matter in hand, and I was conscious of our work in hand.
We continued Northwards, but on an Easterly bearing for but a mile or two, when to my horror I picked out four more monoplanes to the East. I immediately knew that they couldn't be Bristol monoplanes or French models, which meant more trouble. I counted four, flying higher than us, but clearly they'd seen us and were descending to attack. I gunned the motor for all it was worth whilst Colin beat the side of our BE and gesticulated downwards. I knew that he was in the right, but I couldn't see much future in trying to outrun these chaps; their advantages would ensure that all of us would fall.
Right on the edge of stalling, I pulled our 'plane round as hard as I could, with the Fokkers looming large to port. I braced myself and sure enough felt the thwack! of bullets clattering our port wing and fuselage. The controls became softer, soggier and I suddenly realised that this might be it: after all those hours and all the pontificating and scheming, this might be our end, more or less over the front, too low to run and too slow, to boot. God only knows how we got away with it, but we found ourselves above the melee with Colin stabbing at the air to point out a Hun, so I kicked the rudder hard to starboard and found ourselves behind a Hun scout. I squeezed about 30 rounds off and the Fokker in front of us immediately gushed smoke and headed down.
I had had enough. I looked around and found that the flight was still intact and that some Bristols were coming to our aid. Satisfied by this, I scrubbed the mission and set course back to Merville. We landed around thirty minutes later, but I was too shaken to celebrate our success, such as it was.
I've filled in the usual bumf forms and claimed a brace which would, if confirmed, make me technically an 'ace', however I have seen and done quite enough for one day. I'm beginning to think that I should stay and fight on, given the number of novices in the squadron, and yet I know deep down that unless we can bring our scouts to bear more effectively, then I will undoubtedly be shot down in due course. I counted at least half a dozen wrecked aeroplanes on the ground as we fled, and I have no desire to be counted as one of them.
You must not mention a word of this to the parents. Tell them that all is well and that my return to England is imminent. I'm too tired to write much more, so I will wish you goodnight and hope that I am recovered and in better hue in due course.
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Captain Victor Timm RFC,
27th July 1915
Dear Marcus,
Thank you for your congratulations expressed in your letter recently. I was most touched, and added to the pleasure of having seen you all of late up in Matlock, it was an added fillip. I'm most touched that you and your friend Adele were able to come up to the parental nest, and I hope that I didn't bore your senseless with my nonsense about training.
I will admit that my recent break from flying in France has been a wonderful break for me, as it has given me the chance to do two things in the main: the first, to pass on my experiences and flying skills however meagre they are to the various trainee pilots that I've encountered. God love them: they mostly look like schoolboys, but I'm sure they will be capital fellows, assuming that a passing Hun doesn't shoot them down their first day out. I hope that my knowledge will help them to survive over here, since I wouldn't be that keen were I in their shoes. The second, as you might have guessed from my new address, is that I have now become a scout pilot. I have rather mixed feelings about this: my last few days at No.2 Squadron saw a few sorties where we were having to scrap our way through Huns to do a job.
You may remember me telling you that my last 'official' run over the lines led into a scrap with the Huns it was one of those reconnaissance jobs that had to be done and I was lucky enough to down a Hun scout near Lens, however I did do a couple of jobs thereafter where I was acting as Nurse to the flight. One, in particular, which I couldn't tell you about, as it would have taken too long, was a job to Arras where I eventually had to turn into a flight of Fokker monoplanes to persuade them to leave us be. I managed to set three of them smoking, thanks more to Colin's expertise than mine, but it really did underline the need for scout pilots who've been up a while in spotters.
So, after the period passing on my wisdom, I was over in Hendon for training on Bristols however they didn't have any! They're all needed, of course, out here, so I had to practice in a variety of aeroplanes such as the Avro 504 or Morane which I'm unlikely to fly out here. I even got to fly a Longhorn, but I suspect I won't ever again.
Since I saw you last, I've heard from Colin Wilshaw. He's not been back to England yet, and is still with No. 2 RFC, although he's less than happy with the arrangement, and thinks me a lucky dog to have transferred over. I'm hoping to meet up with him and some of the other chaps from No. 2 in Hazebrouck next week. Hopefully his scout training well, pilot training in his case will come through soon.
I did my first job over the lines this morning, as we'd been asked to take down a Hun balloon north of Ypres. I took my chaps up they're splendid fellows, by the way and nudged our way into the area. I was surprised there wasn't more Archie, and wasted a chance to take down the Hun sausage at the first pass. I'd noticed some Hun patrols on high, and was concerned about this, but, apparently, the Huns aren't inclined to take on aircraft, even on their own side, so I signalled my no. 2 to keep an eye out whilst I returned to the observation balloon. Unbelievably, they hadn't had the wit to haul their chaps in, so I had an open door. Even Archie was fast asleep, and it only took about 100 rounds of ammunition to send the balloon down, with Hun ballooneers leaping out all over the place in order to survive. Most satisfying.
I signalled like mad to get everyone else back in place and over the lines, but they all came dribbling back at their pace and in their own sweet time. I'll be dealing with this in due course. If I can tackle taking on the command of a scout flight in a squadron I barely know, flying an aircraft that is so very different to the good old BE, then making sure that these chaps understand their job should be simple enough. However, I seem to remember people telling me last year that this would be a quick and easy war. We shall see!
Affectionate regards,
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Major Victor Timm RFC,
29th July 1915
Dear Marcus,
Today has been something of an eye opener for me, and I'm writing this not six hours since I was picked up and brought back here to Bailleul Asylum by some very obliging chaps from the local RA nine two battery. I should explain.
We were detail this morning to escort some BEs over to a Hun aerodrome at Roucourt so that they could spoil someone's breakfast, muck up the turf and so forth; basically the sort of thing that they're unsuited for, but are asked to do. Thus, we set off on a lovely sunny morning to provide cover for these chaps from No. 7 Squadron. My flight B flight are under no illusions as to what I expected from them, which was, to help out if Hun scouts made an appearance. All well and good, however as we went over the lines near Houplines, I had the damnedest feeling about the job.
We continued on in glorious sunshine, confident that we'd be fine, and then spotted Hun monoplanes to the East, about a mile or two below us. This was, in and of itself, not a worry, since the Hun 'planes simply don't have the puff to climb up to where we patrol, and thus we were in no danger. However, that is not to say that the BE2's we were escorting weren't in danger. I became alarmed when, a few minutes later, I spotted two more formations of Huns off to starboard, again much further down, but nearing the BE's which were approaching Roucourt their target.
I signalled a dive from 12000 feet, where we'd been safe enough, down to around 6000 feet, where the BE's were beginning to have a hot old time of it as about a dozen Fokker scouts dived and wheeled around them something I'd been through myself, of course, but had never seen from the outside. I was both horrified and fascinated. I led B flight right down and squeezed off around 30 rounds at a Hun attempting to bring down one of the BE's; not an easy task, I have to say, when the damn machine gun is offset at an angle to the left of the propeller, however it had the desired effect.
What was rather less desired was that it brought me into the path of several other Hun scouts, and they were happy to point out the folly of my ways by shooting my 'plane up and damaging the various surfaces and controls. Thankfully, and incredibly, not a bullet landed near me, although I could hear them ripping the air around me. The Bristol began to lurch and sag, and the Le Rhone lost much of its revs and began to make the most awful grinding noises. Looking round, I could see two or three Huns behind me, but no-one of B flight, despite what they had been trained to do, ie, fight as a formation.
Clearly, there was no chance of my remaining aloft and attempting to down my attackers, so I winged over and headed Westwards, zigzagging like mad as I went, which shook off my pursuers for a very short time, but sure enough, as I flew over Vitry-en-Artois at around 500 feet, they were there, lining up to take potshots at me as I struggled West.
I cannot describe my feelings of rage and helplessness in that situation, the engine misfiring, the wings peppered and the controls so sloppy that I had to wrench the stick two handed to effect course changes. I continued to bob and weave as best I could as the Fokkers came in. Incredibly, I could hear, see and feel the bullets hitting the 'plane, but at no point did they hit me. I lost the altimeter and fuel gauge, shattered by Hun rounds, and yet nothing touched me.
I looked round and counted four of those damn vultures lining up and so, spotting a forest with a slim road through it, flew right down to ground level and followed the road there, let them follow that! This shook the Huns off for a while, unwilling as they clearly were to follow at such a ludicrously low level, and thus gave me time to take stock as I dodged trees. More or less everything that defined the Bristol as an aeroplane had been shot up, the Vickers was jammed beyond redemption and the engine was grinding itself to death, so I sent up an unspoken prayer to whoever might be listening; I may be agnostic, but there are clearly times when it is ill-advised to make more enemies.
My dancing partners above seemed to be making rather hard work of sending me to the ground, perhaps due to their not being able to organise themselves to do the necessary work, and so I continued to weave for my life, as ill-aimed salvoes of Hun bullets bounced around the already poorly Bristol.
Presently, I identified the woods South of Vimy and threw the 'plane almost onto the deck this was more or less the front lines, and I didn't wish to have Archie pick me off at low altitude, knowing also that the Huns would be less inclined to fly that low, particularly given that ground troops tend to just blaze away like mad things when anything with wings comes over it's one of their few pleasures and revenges. Still, one particularly bold Hun did keep with me, and I felt the bullets thud in, and could even hear quite acutely the firing from his aeroplane. By now, I was well beyond having wind up this was life and death and I approached our lines, only to be met by a hail of small arms fire from the troops below. I had to grit my teeth and fly through, however the Hun did the sensible thing and made himself scarce at that juncture, no doubt fearing a random shot which would bring him to rest on our side to the lines.
By now, the Bristol was barely flying at all, and my speed hovered between forty to sixty miles per hour; ridiculous and untenable, in short order. Now finally over the lines and nearing the Roclincourt road, I looked for somewhere to set down, and having espied a long low hill towards Arras, turned the fuel off and killed the engine. The Bristol scudded alarmingly to port, and it was clear that I wouldn't be making anything like a text book landing. I fought with the stick and rudder as the ground rushed up, and then I was down, the port wings snapping off and detaching themselves, along with the undercarriage, the propeller, half the tail and God knows what else, as I ploughed the field's owner a new furrow.
Finally, we came to a halt, and I climbed out somewhat shaken. Some of our chaps from the Warwickshires had witnessed the crash, and were there to welcome me back to Terra Firma, and they got in contact with the squadron on my behalf as I accepted a few stiff whiskeys from them. Presently some RA chaps came over and offered me a lift North in one of their tenders, but couldn't do anything about the Bristol. I told them not to worry about it: I sincerely doubt that it will be of any more use to anyone; it certainly will never fly again.
So there you are; I arrived back around an hour ago and had to explain the flight to our people, and found out that despite my departure from the fight, only one other Bristol went down and that was near Bailleul on approach. The BE's, I'm pleased to say, came back intact, if not unscathed.
I have now experienced the full fury of these Hun kites, and yet seen their reticence to finish off the job properly. They should have downed me, but didn't apparently have the fibre to do the job, which is the only reason I can see for my survival. God help us if they start putting their flights into full squadrons, as we do.
I must now sign off, since I have dinner to attend to, and I suspect that I will be chatting to my flight for some time this evening.
My fondest regards,
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Major Vic Timm,
29th January 1916
Dear Marcus,
There is so much to tell you, and so little time to do so. When I last wrote to you thank you for all your letters, you will understand the lack of replies anon I was newly anointed as a flight commander at RFC No. 1 Squadron. What I hadn't accounted for was the impudence of fate. No sooner was I settled in with No. 1, when I had a call from Our Betters telling me that Major Douglas my erstwhile commander back in No. 2 had been taken from command back to England for reasons that weren't made clear, and I would be forthwith transferred back to No. 2 to fill in as squadron commander until such times as they put in place a permanent replacement.
Well, as you can imagine, I was rather less than impressed with such shenanigans, given what I'd gone through to become a scout pilot. Of course, there's no sense in protesting; they needed an experienced body and I was the poor sod selected, regardless. Fortunes of war you might say. I suppose that it was something of a promotion and a pat on the back, but given the temporary nature of the posting, I'm not so sure.
Anyhow, regardless of the whys and wherefores of it all, I ended up on a truck back to Hesdigneul, having waved off my erstwhile and rather fitful comrades over at No. 1. My new home is here at Hesdigneul-les-Bethune, to give it its full name, a few miles South West of Bethune proper.
I'd hardly returned back to the squadron much to Colin Wilshaw's gleeful baying when we had our first job up over the lines. That, I'm pleased to say went well, and I was able to judge the quality of some of the new pilots who've come in in the interim. Regrettably people like Ashford et al, who were regulars have gone West, so we're having to make do with some painfully ill-equipped chaps coming through. I did one or two more jobs, which were pretty uneventful; I saw more Huns out and about, but this seems to be par for the course at the moment, so it was simply a case of keeping everyone out of harms way and getting the job done.
The actual responsibility of the day to day running of the squadron was reasonably onerous, but it's amazing just how much of the non-essential nonsense can be palmed off onto the orderly dogs and other ground staff. At least it liberated a little more time to fly, which is entirely desirable given that our headcount is down to six pilots and only a few more obs.
The top hat to all this was in mid November when FA62 paid us an unwanted and unwelcome visit in their little buzzy 'planes and I ordered up everyone to give them a fright. I calculated that I'd never get a better chance to give them a good beating, aided by our ground MGs and that was precisely the outcome: I managed to shoot down a Hun scout, thanks to Colin's exceptional signing, and another one was accounted for by the squadron. We lost no 'planes, which made it all the better.
That would have been a marvellous result, however it meant that when we finally got aloft again a few days later, after some utterly dismal rainy weather, we ended up facing some rather vengeful Huns out way South East of Albert when on a spotting job. It was one of those flights where everything that could go wrong did. The flight became fragmented, regardless of how much I signalled, the wind blew horribly from the West, we were assailed by rain and sleet and, to cap it all, both Archie and the Huns were in a troublesome mood.
The long and short of it was that we found ourselves, behind Hun lines being picked on by eindeckers. Normally, that wouldn't put the wind up, but these chaps were terribly well organised and tore into us. I did my level best to stop them but several of the flight were forced down due to damage. One BE went down in a huge sheet of flame, which was a dreadful and upsetting sight to witness, though I hardly knew them being such a new crew.
The end was inevitable, and despite chasing the Huns as far as possible to lessen the strain on the other chaps, we were inevitably caught up by some Hun scouts who dealt our 'plane enough blows to force us down inside their lines, but thankfully away from the front line. On crash landing, I obviously put a flare into our BE to prevent the Huns from getting their hands on it, and Colin and I started limping Westwards after what I can only call a rather lucky landing; lucky, that is, as in we both survived unharmed.
Hun infantry picked us up soon thereafter, and we were passed on to various groups of the German army, all sporting increasing amounts of egg on their shoulders, until we were carted off to an airfield somewhere near Albert, as best as I could make out. This turned out to be the home of FA62, the people who'd sent us down and whose membership we've helped to thin out whenever possible. We spent a less than jolly evening with them: they wanted to welcome us as fellow aviators, but I'm afraid I've seen rather too many of our chaps go down at their hands to have much truck with them, regardless of how civil they are. I will be fair and admit that they weren't beastly to us or try to lord it over us, and they did seem queerly similar to us in many ways, however they were still Huns which made it rather difficult to warm to them. Perhaps in another place and another time. But I digress.
Because both Wilshaw and I were officers, we were shipped off the following morning to a processing station further East, from where we were taken to what we were told was a holding camp prior to embarkation to Germany. Well, as you might imagine, neither I nor Colin was keen on this idea, and thus we deliberated upon the best way of avoiding this fate. We concluded that the best course would be to try and escape in transit, given the opportunity, as this would give us the best chance of avoiding set procedures involving sweeps for escapees and so forth.
The opportunity, however, didn't come and we found ourselves in a camp near Waterloo now there's name with resonance which was both unpleasant to be in and depressing to consider leaving at the same time. As it turned out, German bureaucracy behind the lines is as wonderfully advanced as our own, and we were not taken any further. It took a full eight weeks before we had a chance to escape, including the most miserable Christmas imaginable, but escape we did. We decamped under the wire of the camp and threw ourselves upon the mercy of the local Belgians, who, I'm glad to say were the salt of the Earth. They kept us both hidden for a fortnight and then guided us back to the lines, wishing us a bon voyage.
We finally made it through the lines although God knows how two days ago, around 60 days after we were forced down by Hun scouts. So, here I am to let you know that we Timms don't sell ourselves lightly, and that I'm still here. The squadron's been run by captains on brevet since I've been gone, however now I'm back I suspect that the Corps will want me back in charge immediately. It really is that pressing.
I must dash there is so much to do and insufficient numbers to do so. I will write again once all this whirl has settled down.
Love to mother and father and please let them know that it was highly likely that the letter that they received concerning my going missing was simply another piece of bumf without anything to back it up.
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Major Vic Timm,
St. Omer,
25th February 1916
Dear Marcus,
I thought it best that I write to you today for various reasons, not least the which is that I'm still alive, which, as the nonsense written in the papers would attest is nigh upon a miracle. I've had a chance over the last day or so outside of jobs to see some of the papers from England admittedly they're nearly a month old and I have to say that I'm not impressed with the line they tend to take. Be a good chap and write to them, telling them that the skies aren't black with eindeckers, despite what it profits them to tell their gullible readers.
In fact, there's more chance of piling up one's 'plane, catching influenza, breaking a bone through rough and tumble in the mess or being knocked down by traffic on the Bethune to Bruay road, with similar results, I dare say. Whilst I would dearly love to have faster, better armed and more manouvreable 'planes for the squadron, I appreciate that this will take time. As part of my return to No. 2, Boom dropped in, which was much appreciated. Trenchard is an impressive chap, and he took the time to hear about what had been happening over the last quarter or so much of which I've been absent from as it happens and I think that he took to heart my request for closer coverage by scouts when Huns scouts are likely to be around (which is more or less all the time nowadays). Trenchard congratulated me on my bag of Huns and my recent escape, but I had no answers from him regarding better cover or quicker 'planes except to say that better aeroplanes were in the offing and that we had to do what we can with what we have, as it puts the Huns on the back foot. I'm quite happy to hear this, however it sounds like jam tomorrow and in the meantime, the Huns appear to be organising themselves into groupings or squadrons that ensure that they can more than match double our numbers when we appear over their lines.
I advise you not to mention this to the aged parents; they don't need to know.
Thus, after Boom took off with his scribe Henderson, a few hours later we had exactly the sort of scenario that Trenchard's thinking is meant to avoid a scramble because of incoming Hun aeroplanes. Colin and I and the rest of No. 2, actually sat in our 'planes by the hangars, the rain crashing down around us as unwanted guests came over at a few hundred feet, loosing off the odd round. I had no doubt that they wouldn't attack us directly, as we're quite well protected by our own Archie and machine gun emplacements around the field, something that they will probably have remembered from their last and rather expensive visit to us. But, my God, there were a lot of them! I counted around eight and Wilshaw told me that he counted at least eleven unique aircraft. I signalled to everyone that the mission was dud, and we all sloped off to the mess, or in the case of those of us who were compelled to, off to the Sergeant Major in charge of the defences and then to have a quick word with the RA people on the perimeter. Not a tremendous day, made worse as the rain turned to sleet, and then, around five, to snow.
Curiously, the next day, I received a 'phone call from Wing informing me that my time with No. 2 was coming to a close, and that I should be prepared, first, to move to No. 12 Squadron who are based at St. Omer, and second, to prepare the Squadron for my departure and the arrival of Major Waldron as my successor. This latter was hardly a surprise as Ferdy has done various tours with No. 2 in the last year and is a fine chap. The former, however, was a huge surprise to me, since it meant not only leaving No. 2, which I of course had to accept, but also forgoing the idea of flying scouts, as my new squadron are in FE2b aeroplanes. These are yet more Farnborough devices, but differ from the BE by being pushers in other words, with the engine at one's back, and, moreover, with one's observer sat in front.
I have rarely seen such a delighted grin on the face of another human being as when I informed Colin that I would be going to No. 12, and told him that he might as well get his long cherished wish and come with me. He announced himself chuffed with such a move; not surprising given that we're up to full establishment again, and thus he can be spared, but also given that we've spoken many times regarding our increased enfeeblement in BE's. It is also true, I suppose, that we both felt a sense of escape; more so for Colin, since he stayed at the Squadron when I sent back to England, and then briefly posted to No. 1 RFC.
There was, inevitably, a rather large do, both joyous and mournful, as I left No.2 for the second time: both Colin and I were subject to various toasts, as well as not a few rather faux-grand and witty panegyrics about our heroic attainments with the Squadron, all containing a tiny seed of truth, and rather more wine and spirit than one would care to admit! As CO to the Squadron, I tried very hard to remain upright, but the blighters managed something that the Huns haven't yet done, and I achieved a very tricky crash landing a mere few yards from my base. Discreet fellow airmen, I'm told, saw me to my bed.
We moved over to St. Omer at the start of February, and acquainted ourselves with the new squadron and the area. Briefly, St. Omer is further away and to the North West of our old home at Hesdigneul, but is, in my opinion, and given its proximity to Arques, a better place to be, astride the River Aa. We're to the South East of St. Omer, just South of the ville of Longuenesse, a place that in other times I would be happy to stay.
Now ensconced at No. 12, I had the chance to take up the FE on various occasions earlier this month and to get a sense of how she feels as a bus for operations. Of course, Colin was with me, and we shared many an evening concerning how we should operate. He's obviously tickled pink with the idea of having two that's right, not just one, but two machine guns which he can operate, without any sort of recourse to myself and without regard to my wishes. I'm beginning to understand just how he felt after I had that forward mounted Hotchkiss mounted to our old BE last year! Of course, this also led to several late night philosophical discussions over some beers regarding the concept of just who was entitled to claim a victory in the event of shooting a Hun down. Colin quite correctly pointed out that in the past, I've been feted for victories that, without his help, simply wouldn't have occurred, to which I, equally correctly, I felt, pointed out that if he were to shoot down a Hun in the new bus, then he'd jolly well have to recognise the role of the bus driver in such a notional contest.
Onto the new bus. It's a queer old thing, with the engine aft, giving it quite strange handling characteristics. My first flight alone, I might add found that it was more manouvreable than the dear old BE, but hardly a vast improvement. It's somewhat less predictable, and, I'm told, can stall more easily than the BE. What is quite disconcerting is the rush of wind upon one's face and the lack of any vestigial warmth that the BE might afford. I took Colin up on several occasions during our first week, to enable him to get used to his new perch. He announced himself very pleased with the Lewises unsurprising but somewhat less than enamoured with the exposed position, particularly given that he has been used to engine warmth and a windshield. I reminded him gravely that this, indeed, is the price he has to pay to get his hands on a machine gun.
Thus it was that by Wednesday 23rd, we were fully part of the squadron, having performed our own induction into the ways of the FE, so to speak. More generally, we were, by then, better acquainted with our new squadron, and a fine set of men they are. They have all been here for a little while and one or two of them have been quite successful downing Huns despite the main job being reconnaissance and the odd bombing raid.
Next morning, after a convivial evening spent with our new comrades, we were rudely awoken with the news that Hun 'planes were heading in towards us. I jumped out of bed and grabbing only my sheepskin, helmet and goggles, shouted to the DO to get everyone out immediately and into their 'planes as you'll imagine my last experience of a Hun raid has persuaded me that we should take them on whenever we can. Colin threw himself into the front bay and we managed to get off as the Huns began to loom on the horizon; thank goodness that Fokkers are as slow as the old BE is!
I'm afraid that I didn't treat our FE very kindly and we lurched into the sky with me racing the cold motor, just in time to avoid the Huns as they came in. Aware that other pilots were taking off, I dragged our bus starboard and staggered back towards the Hun scouts, who were busily popping off rounds and trying to avoid our chaps on the ground in the gun posts. The Huns bobbed around in their own odd way, and I closed on one when Colin started gesticulating like some sort of deranged mime artist: a Fokker scout had pulled off to port in a climb, and it was too good a chance to miss. I pushed the FE after it and Wilshaw, hunched behind his Lewis set to blasting away at the Hun. At such close quarters, he struck the Hun with a weight of rounds, and suddenly the Hun was trailing smoke heavily and headed downwards. Well, that was the end of that. The Hun hit the ground just North of Wizernes, a little way from us.
We circled back up, only to find that the enemy aircraft had made themselves very scarce indeed; apparently, it had been a tip and run raid. We landed back at St. Omer, with my having to look at Wilshaw's grin all the way back, and becoming acutely conscious that my pyjama bottoms were no protection against the elements. We finally landed and climbed out, to the odd pat on the back from other flyers who'd made it back in. No-one from No. 12 had been downed, and apparently only that one Hun had gone in, whilst his chums had effected no damage on the airfield that anyone could notice. All very odd.
That was the only job that day as the weather closed in, so we had the pleasure of a long lunch in St. Omer, where I had to endure Wilshaw's slightly inebriated rendition of the fight and his conclusion that he would soon be an 'ace' in his own right. For once, I think he might be right; his shooting was tremendous; far more economical than anything I ever managed. Still, no reason to let him know that, and I mocked him mercilessly for his maladroitness.
It's now around eleven on the 25th. I'm sat at my bureau with a coffee and anticipating a job later this afternoon. I will sign off, as this letter has been far too long for sensible reading. Please pass on my love to the parents, and tell them that I am quite well and, with William Tell sat in front of me, rather likely to be mentioned in despatches within the week!
Yours, affectionately,
Edited by SimonC (
Re: The war diary of Victor Timm, RFC (OFF)
Re: SimonC
Registered: 06/12/09
Posts: 230
Loc: North of England
Is this stuff OK, by the way? There's more to post if people wish to continue reading it.
Page 1 of 7
Previous Topic
Next Topic
Topic Options
Rate This Topic
Hop to:
Print Topic
Switch to Threaded Mode
SimHQ Community
»Community Hall
»After Action Reports
»Article Feedback
»Event Photography & Video
»Outer Space & Science Fiction
»RC & Scale Modeling
»Screenshot & Video Gallery
Air Combat & Civil Aviation
»Air Combat Maneuvers & Tactics
»Air Combat - General
»Modern Era
»Civil Aviation - General
»Battle of Britain + Battle of Britain II
»DCS World
»DCS: UH-1H Huey
»DCS: Black Shark
»DCS: Black Shark - FAQs and References
»DCS: Black Shark - Training
»DCS: Black Shark - Technical Issues
»DCS: Combined Arms
»DCS: P-51D Mustang
»Flaming Cliffs / LOMAC
»DCS: A-10C Warthog
»DCS: A-10C Warthog - FAQs & References
»DCS: A-10C Warthog - Technical issues
»DCS: A-10C Warthog - Training
»European Air War
»Falcon 4.0
»Falcon - FAQs & Reference
»Falcon - Technical Issues
»Falcon - Training
»Falcon - Feature Articles
»Gaijin Flight Series
»IL-2: Cliffs of Dover
»IL-2: Cliffs of Dover - Extended Discussions
»IL-2: Cliffs of Dover - Tips & Tweaks
»IL-2: Battle of Stalingrad
»Jane's F-15 & F/A-18
»Over Flanders Fields
»Over Flanders Fields - FAQs & Reference
»Over Flanders Fields - Technical Issues
»Rise of Flight - The First Great Air War
»SAM Simulator
»Take On Helicopters
»Third Wire Series
Land & Armor Combat
»Armor Simulations - General
»Tactical Simulations - General
»ARMA Series
»DayZ Mod
»EA Battlefield Series
»Graviteam Sims
»Iron Front: Liberation 1944
»RTS / Historical Strategy
»Steel Beasts Series
»Tom Clancy Series
SimHQ Motorsports
»Racing forums moved to SimHQ Motorsports web site
»Copy Protection & DRM
»Flight Sim Controllers
»Control Manager (CH Products)
»FOXY (Thrustmaster Cougar)
»LGS (Logitech)
»SST (Saitek)
»T.A.R.G.E.T. (Thrustmaster)
»Flight Sim Pit Builders
»Hardware & Software - Consoles
»Hardware & Software - PC
»Hardware & Software - Mobile & Pads
»Console Gaming
»Naval Simulations
»Outer Space Simulation & Combat Games
»Kerbal Space Program
»Trains & Railway
Read Only Forums
»Read Only Forums
»Battle of Britain II Day by Day Campaign (Read Only)
»Combat Helo (Read Only)
»F/A-18 Operation Iraqi Freedom (Read Only)
»Flanker 2.0 / 2.5 (Read Only)
»IL-2: Cliffs Of Dover (Read Only)
»Jane's Longbow Series (Read Only)
»Jane's USAF (Read Only)
»Jet Thunder (Read Only)
»Knights Over Europe (Read Only)
»Operation: Flashpoint (Read Only)
»Red Baron (Read Only)
»Rising Sun (Read Only)
»Typhoon (Read Only)
»WWII Fighters (Read Only)
»Yankee Air Pirate 2 (Read Only)
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
View homepage
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
View profile
Send a PM
Add to your Watched Users
View posts
Forum Use Agreement
Privacy Statement
Copyright 1997-2013, SimHQ Inc. All Rights Reserved.


text:
The hotel is small, nice and clean. The tram stop is 50 m from the hotel... for your convenience!!! And you are 100 m from Rijksmuseum and Van Ghog museum. You can be in the centre in 10 minutes whith the tram. Staff is kind with customer; the breakfast is easy but good. Very good experience! Elisa
- Official Description (provided by the hotel):
- Small, family owned 3-star hotel in southern part of the city centre containing 28 rooms of different sizes and types, with it's own unique character and personal attention towards guests. Certified member of HoReCa Nederland and ANWB Hotel classification guides. ... more less
- Reservation Options:
- TripAdvisor is proud to partner with Booking.com, Hotels.com, Expedia, Priceline, EasyToBook, Travelocity, Venere and HotelsClick so you can book your Hotel Aalders reservations with confidence. We help millions of travellers each month to find the perfect hotel for both holiday and business trips, always with the best discounts and special offers.
- Also Known As:
- Aalders Hotel Amsterdam


text:
Monday, 07 May 2012
Integration Mustn't Be a Boilerplate Approach
Educational and recreational segregation used to be the model for children with special needs. Then, integration came into vogue. Now we're got segregationists debating integrationists, and truly, we're all missing the point.
Recently I heard an interview given by a blogger, Harold Dougherty who describes his child being forced into an integrated setting that was a disaster for his son. He describes the new bureaucrat in charge as being an integration extremist, with very bad consequences for the child. This situation is outrageous!
The issue is not segregation versus integration, but rather that children should never be forced, to be either integrated or segregated. Instead of being placed in a setting that works best for the child in consultation with the child's treatment team, some children are apparently placed based on: A) the philosophy of the reigning bureaucrat or "educrat" of the day and/or B) the cheapest placement for the school district.
Every child should have the right to be integrated when the integration works for that child. When an integrated setting is inappropriate and does not work, the answer is not a segregated setting with a group of children who are being ghettoized.But rather, one-on-one treatment that is customized for the specific child with autism. Then, the treatment professional can grab every possible integration opportunity available for that child when it works, and can work toward integration opportunities when the child needs to learn pro-social behaviors and routines prior to the effort at integration.
To illustrate, it may be counterproductive for an untreated child suffering from severe autism to be placed in a calculus class. Prior to placing the child in the integrated setting, he or she needs to learn the skills and routines to be successful in that setting. This goes for educational settings as well.
Post a Comment
- Back to autisable's Autisable Site!
- Note: your comment will appear in autisable's local time zone: GMT -05:00 (Eastern Standard - US, Canada)


text:
Stayed at the Hotel Toni for a week at the beginning of March. Travelled as a party of five, we all had a fantastic time and have nothing but praise for this hotel and its amenities. The rooms were warm and comfortable and fairly spacious too. We were all very impressed with facilities on offer, especially the pool and spa... More
- Also Known As:
- Toni Hotel Kaprun
- Reservation Options:
- TripAdvisor is proud to partner with Booking.com, Priceline and HotelsClick so you can book your Hotel Toni reservations with confidence. We help millions of travellers each month to find the perfect hotel for both holiday and business trips, always with the best discounts and special offers.


text:
DescriptionA general description on the subject of the Food and Drug Administration is available in Entry ID: 37939948.
Solutions in WinCC flexibleWinCC flexible provides the following options and solutions to fulfill the FDA regulations:
Access protection Access protection is ensured by the software package SIMATIC Logon (central user administration) and the local user administration.
Examples of local user administration:
Examples of SIMATIC Logon:
More information on the topic of SIMATIC Logon is available here.
Audit TrailThe Audit Trail is provided by the WinCC flexible/Audit option. WinCC flexible/Audit is for monitoring operator activities in Runtime mode. Below are examples of fulfilled requirements.
Using the WinCC flexible Change Control option it is possible to record changes in the WinCC flexible projects, for example, changes to archive and alarm displays and graphics, definition of access rights etc.
Electronic signatureWinCC flexible permits users to sign actions electronically. In the Engineering phase, among other things, tags are defined and any changes made to them in Runtime must be confirmed with an electronic signature. The electronic signature may consist of entering a password and a comment. The changes are also recorded in the Audit Trail.
Further Information More information on the topic of GMP (Good Manufacturing Practice) is available at the following link. http://www.industry.siemens.com/verticals/global/en/pharma-industries/gmp-validation/Pages/Default.aspx
Additional Keywords Certificate, Directives, Laws


text:
| Babystalk, babystalk, it's a wonder you can walkPosted by SlumSlut
I am a magnet for babystalking. I get why...at five feet tall and tiny, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes I am just not threatening. It doesn't help that (apparently) I look like a Disney princess. Breeders actually ask me quite often if I will dress up like a goddamned princess for their hellspawn's birthday parties, and my dad and stepmom's mombie neighbors have been on my case about getting me to do that before their Bratshley gets too old. It drives me nuts that people expect me to think their kid is adorable because it's bothering me. I'm sorry, that is not how the world works. If some douchey guy in an Ed Hardy shirt comes up to me and starts touching me because he thinks I'm cute, it is acceptable to tell him to stuff it. I apply the same principle to your kid. What drives me even crazier are the parunts who tell me that I should either enjoy the brats' attention becaus I look this way, or change my looks. I wish I was kidding. Sorry mooface, I like being little and hot. I shouldn't have to look like you do for your brats to ignore me. The worst is babystalking in enclosed spaces. I got it on my train to work yesterday. First, my train time is sacred. If I am sitting there with sunglasses on and earbuds in, do not talk to me. The gigantic moo got on the train during my morning commute with her goddamned baby in her arms, and instead of choosing an empty row, of which there were plenty, sits right fucking next to me. So the moo spreads her ample self out as she sits down and pulls out a Cosmo magazine which she is trying to read while not dropping her spawn. Finally, she gets sick of trying to balance it, and asks me to hold her fucking kidlet while she reads Cosmo. I glared at her, refused, and tried to get up, but she happens to be the size of Roseanne Barr and Orson Well's love child, so I couldn't move. She is pissed that her kid is getting in the way of her reading about what I assume her husband's secretary is doing to his balls at the moment, so she starts berating me for being an evil selfish cihildhater. Yup, lady, you got my number. Finally, I am reaching my limit and about to asphyxiate from her moo fumes, so I asked her if her kid had the Bratley Spawn vaccine. She looked at me like a cow in the headlights, and I explained that it could be fatal to her kid since I had a bad case in my youth and it's easily contagious. Never seen something that size move so fast.
I am so glad that my public transit experience is limited to a 20 minute bus ride through the graduate/married student apartment "village" and then to campus so any parents are at least graduate students at a Big 10 university. I am so sorry about that Moo, I can't even imagine what gos through someone's (tiny) brain to think that that would be acceptable. If these are the most pwecious things in their lives, why are they always so keen to hand them off?
THAT'S a new one. creeps! Tell them "No, but how about if I dress as a ZOMBIE for Halloween?"
Yes, thank you for this!!! How did she know I wasn't some baby rabid crazy who was going to steal the thing? How does she know I'm not a pedo? How does she know I'm not a serial killer? I'm not any of these things, but she doesn't know that. I mean, I have no capacity to understand why someone would want to steal a kid at all, but aren't these crotchfruit gardens worried sick about babynappers and child molesters and all of that? Had another doozy today on the train. Again, sunglasses on, book in hand, earphones in, and some creep and his four or five year old little nugget of squirm sits in my row, squishing me in. I'm alternating between reading and playing bejeweled, and the guy is trying to fricken hit on me while the kid is climbing everywhere. Creep says to me, "Ahhh kids. Don't you love them?." I reply, "nope." At this point, the kid is leaning over his duh's lap, staring at me, before whining at his duh that he wants to play bejeweled. The idiot has the audacity to ask me if I wouldn't mind handing over my iPhone to the kid. No. Noooo. Not happening. When I refused, the guy acts like I am the biggest asshole ever for not lending his kid my phone. And it gets worse. The kid recovers enough from "the mean lady who won't share" to ask me to read to him from my book. That, I can do. Too bad for the kid that I happened to be reading Atlas Shrugged. "Alright, listen up," I started, "'He was holding Dagny half-stretched across the bed, he was tearing her clothes off..."
The book part is funny as hell. Hard to believe some asshole duh expected a total stranger to hand over something so expensive. I'd have dropped all pretense of civility and told him to fuck off and take his cunt nugget with him.
What? You mean you weren't overwhelmed by this manly man's charm?
YESSSS!!! The fact that you were reading Ayn Rand didn't scare him off? lol I love that part, especially how it's so awkward and uncomfortable not only physically but also in Dagny's inner monologue. How fast did the Duh move the kid?
Another lovely day at Office(Place) during Back-2-Skool season. Everyone brought in their kids to buy shit with Angry Birds and Batman on it. I had a horrible thought...what if the Dark Knight school merchandise came with free movie passes? Anyway...I'm putting stuff on shelves like a good retail peon when I leave my cart out of sight for just a minute ...when I came back, there was a doofus duhd and his two he-brats - one of whom was trying to spread himself across both the duhd's cart and my stock cart. Me: "Excuse me" Duhd: "Hurr hey son git off tha cart. Huh huh, kiiiiids, ya know." Boy: "Look, daddy, Angry Birds!" Me: "EXCUSE ME" Dude finally pulls his kid off the cart full of shmancy electronic accessories ($25 printer cables my ass) and I get to continue. Later, I stop a kid who is running through the store - I could hear him stampeding and giggling. (Where were his parents?) He runs into me - first and last time, and I made sure of that. "DO NOT RUN across the store. I actually looked this kid in the eyes to say it, and I don't normally look my customers in the eyes that often. Damn me if he didn't stop after that. Finally, there was one couple plus a toddler who were perusing our technology aisles. A coworker and I both approached them at separate times to ask if they were able to find things, etc., and they gave us the same explanation both times: "We're only in here to entertain [name of kid.]" LOLWUT. You are looking to...entertain your kid...in an office supply store. Okay, whatever, just buy some stuff. I like staplers and labeling tape as much as the next person, but I'm old enough to appreciate the difference between one type of ballpoint pen and another. We have all the shit out with licensed characters (i.e., a metric fuckton of flash drives shaped like Marvel and Looney Tunes characters), so the kids are treating it like a toy store. Otherwise, I'm starting to like my job again - even if some of the managers are in their positions just to be kept out of the workflow. I already hate BTS - I managed to avoid seeing kids and their handlers all summer, and now this. ---------- michaela "A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends, and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish, and seasoned with a little pepper or salt, will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter." -Jonathan Swift, A Modest Proposal
You think it would, but I wasn't counting on this fucker knowing who Ayn Rand is. And I love that part also, she really does uncomfortable well. I really had fun with that, but this was the only time that I've ever wanted to have a copy of 50 Shades of Crap with me. (Not that I've read that BS, I downloaded a sample of it on my iPad to see what all the hype was about...I wanted to take that idiot's "inner goddess" and slap her silly. That shit was awful). I bet that Duh would have booked it faster than he did. (Took him a good ten minutes to realize what was I was reading to the tardlet).
Not unless charm was the name of this fucker's cologne.
I am of the "Tits on Toast" variety myself....it never fails when I go out to shop for groceries on my own. Always some loser duh with a little kyd trailing a couple of feet behind me, duhddy talking a little too loudly in that Gawdawful baybee talk that sounds like the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. I usually turn around and give him a stare that says, "Don't you ever shut the hell up?" Normally that works because I can be quite intimidating when I get pissed. They may make some backhanded rude comment, but I'm just glad when they go away and leave me the fuck alone.
As I left work today and was taking off my work shirt like I always do (tank top underneath), a horrid man pushing a double stroller stared at me. Later, at the transit center, he boarded the same bus as I did. I put on my shirt again. ---------- michaela "A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends, and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish, and seasoned with a little pepper or salt, will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter." -Jonathan Swift, A Modest Proposal
Brattymcpants, I sooo feel your pain. I happen to resemble a Bratz doll, (minus the hookertastic shoes and makeup)so ,for a while, I got much unwanted attention from little monsters and their makers. I guess you have it tougher, though, because the Disney Princess trend shows no signs of ever ending.
My husband got baby stalked tonight. He also just learned what it is. Some jackass at Walfart, (Hubby loves the place no matter how much I hate it), thought we would let him cut in line ahead of us just because he had a loaf in his cart. He and moo had two full shopping carts and moo is yelling about having to pull out the WIC vouchers. This jackwagon thought we would let him take two full carts when we only had a measly 15 items and this asshole thought he and his moo would be able to take their two full carts of WIC ahead of us??? Hubby went to get the veggies we forgot and duh gave me dirty looks the entire time he was gone. I looked at him, he nodded toward the loaf and tried to shove his cart in front of ours. I went back to reading that magazine I never intended to buy. Hubby came back, gave the duh a dumb look and put our stuff on the checkout, and strikes up a conversation with the cashier. When we got back in the truck I told Hubby what that was all about. His responded with, I had to drag all four of my sisters through walfart and nobody ever offered to let me go ahead! Screw that shit!" I love my charming hubby right now.
A fetus is not a fetus until 8 weeks gestation so most early abortions are performed on embryos. Medication abortions are available up to 63 days LMP although a bit longer in Europe. After 6 weeks the contents up the uterus are vacuumed out after the cervix is dilated. The shit put on youtube is often put up by people who claim a 25 week gestation is 5 weeks. Thise abortuons performed past the point of viability if the loafi has. serious defects or mom will die.
What an amazing come-back. For several months, when I was younger, I carried around a copy of A Modest Proposal to read on public transport, in the hopes that some breeder would give me the annoying "What are you reading? What's it about?" treatment.
Not really sure if this qualifies. But, I was visiting some friends at their apartment yesterday. I was getting on the elevator to leave when this guy walks up, just as some kyd starts screaming down the hall. He says to me, with a smile and a laugh, "Boy my kyd sure is loud". I didn't really say anything in reply, because I don't find screaming kyds to be cute, so that was pretty much the end of the exchange.
It counts! He was seeking a reaction from you.
should have replied with "yeah, you should discipline them. make them shut up."
Why is it that they always ASSUME? I was asked the same thing when I was in the grocery store a few weeks ago. Cashier; Oh you must be in a hurry because you have kids home for summer (something like that) Me; No, I'm just in a hurry because I don't like spending my whole day in the grocery store. I want to get home to the peace and quiet of my house.
Next time, I'm going to say: "Actually no, my boyfriend were I up late having hot, dirty sex. Then, we had to spend almost an hour looking for the keys to the handcuffs." Talk about insulting though. Plenty of people have other reasons to be tired. Besides, I am freshly showered, in clean clothes and put forth a relatively fit appearance. How could I possibly be mistaken for a moomy?
Today I had the utmost pleasure of watching some stereotypical moo and her lardass of an infant on the bus. I swear, if you made a quick list of the most basic moo features, she'd be it: -Greasy blonde hair in a half-assed ponytail (at least it was combed) -The face of a barnyard animal -unshaven -fat -granny panty wearing (she bent over while wearing capri pants) -loud -probably covered in stretch marks, didn't care to ask -Shitty butterfly leg tattoo -mustache??? She had a big 'ole stroller because the "umbrella" sort would probably collapse under junior's weight. Seriously, she lifted the kid and I saw the fat around his ribcage pool over her own generous hands. But, hey, she folded it, AND she stayed out of the handicapped seat (at first.) Then she started doing the loud cooing and "WHO'S MAH BABEE? WHO'S MAH BABEE? YOU ARE! YOU ARE! PFFFFFFFRRRRRRTTTT" (She blew really loud raspberries on the kid. Gross. I could hear her over my headphones. I took my homework, muttered "Fucking disgusting," then moved to another seat. Oh, I guess she heard me, because she glared at me, but soon resumed her germ-spreading with her kid. I saw her get on another bus, this time taking the handicap spot, and continuing to fart around with her kid. God damn it I'm starting to hate public transportation. I keep losing out on bike racks (my own fault, I know lots of people use the racks on the bus, it's inevitable that i'll lose sometimes), keep having to share space with gross people, and, of course, the hellspawn. Between the kid with the odd rash who kept touching everything last week, the SECOND of two raspberry blowers within two days, and the little shithead who pulled my hair (apparently this is widespread, eh, brattymcpants?), I think I might actually take the plunge and learn to drive. ---------- michaela "A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends, and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish, and seasoned with a little pepper or salt, will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter." -Jonathan Swift, A Modest Proposal Sorry, only registered users may post in this forum. |


text:
For The 3-year programme, The 2-year programme, Specialist Programme and Design Graduate Programme applications will be accepted from November 1 to January 15 for those applying outside the European Union (For applicants from the United States the application deadline is February 10). Applicants from a European Union country can submit their applications from January 1 to March 15.
Applicants selected for an interview will be contacted within a few weeks of applying. Interviews will be conducted at the beginning of February for those outside of the European Union, and April for those located within the European Union.
The trainee programmes starts in September of every year, with all trainees spending the first month in Denmark.
If you are from outside the EU, please find the country for which you will be applying through below, and send your CV (Resume) and motivation letter to their e-mail.
If your country is not listed above, please send your CV to the nearest country to you.
You can apply only for one trainee programme at a time, in case you are in doubt what to apply for, you can contact us by phone or email.
The 3-year programme: You should have a high school diploma, college experience, or a bachelor's degree. Those with post graduate education and/or masters degrees will not be accepted into this programme.
The 2-year programme: You should have an academic background of a bachelor's degree with 2 years working experience, or a master's degree.
Specialist Programme: You should have a technical or craftsman background. There are no limitations for bachelor's or masters degrees for this programme.
Design Graduate Programme: You should have an academic background of a bachelor's degree with 2 years working experience, or a master's degree. Please include links to your gallery or send us your portfolio.
Trainees will receive a salary throughout the entire programme. ECCO Headquarters will regulate the salary once a year based on official guidelines. You will also be offered fully furnished housing during expatriation. Furthermore, your travel costs in relation to work assignments will be paid for while you are expatriated.
No, ECCO will cover the cost of business related travels. This includes transportation from your home country at the start of the programme, and any travel that is business related during the duration of the programme. All personal travel and trips must be covered at your own expense.
To be an ECCO Trainee, you must be determined, motivated, hardworking, energetic and responsible. You must have a desire to travel, experience different cultures, and be adventurous.
If you have any other questions or concerned, please send us an email at firstname.lastname@example.com.