KMS Bismarck (Schlachtschiff, 1939-1941) "Sink the Bismarck!"

Schlachtschiff KMS Bismarck

The sinking of the Bismarck (May 27, 1941) affirmed the superiority of His Majesty's Navy in the western theatre of operations during WW II and effectively ended any German hopes to implement sea control tactics.

Kriegsmarine WW II poster

The critical point in the Bismarck affair was her sinking of the battlecruiser HMS Hood, in joint action with the KMS Prinz Eugen. Even though the Hood had become obsolete, it was the flagship of the Home Fleet and a ship the british public was very fond of.

Wartime British Prime Minister Winston Churchill

Winston Churchill, with his keen wartime instinct (indeed, he was the architect of british sea superiority in the two great wars, when during his term as First Lord of the Admiralty he implemented the switch from coal to oil as fuel for the Fleet and the development of naval aviation) saw that this could be the beginning of a very negative trend.

If any German battleship were allowed to escape, then soon the Kriegsmarine, with the implementation of its shipbuilding program, would be more than a match for Home Fleet.

Churchill, with his "Sink the Bismarck!" directive allocated all the resources of Home Fleet to the chase of Bismarck and Prinz Eugen.

Bismarck, as seen from the deck of KMS Prinz Eugen

Prinz Eugen, a lucky ship to the very end, escaped but Bismarck suffered a lucky hit by an airplane-fired torpedo which jammed her rudder, irreversibly condemning her to a circular course. The british warships closed in and started pounding the Bismarck. After hours of unequal combat she sank, leaving very few survivors.

About 3000 shells and torpedoes were fired against her. About 1/10 hit. The result: Recent investigations by deep sea probes, beginning with Dr. Ballard's expedition show that the most probable cause of Bismarck's sinking was scuttling by her own crew....

Anyway, with the loss of the Graf Spee and the Bismarck the Kriegsmarine was restricted only to sea denial tactics with a fleet in being and unrestricted submarine warfare. The invasion of the Islands became a distant dream, but when, less than a month later, Barbarossa was launched, the German nation was about to discover the really great tragedies and horrors of war.

And since we are in a such a cheerful mood, let us end with a song:

In May of 1941 the war had just begun,
The Germans had the biggest ship,
They had the biggest guns.
The Bismarck was the fastest ship,
That ever sailed the seas,
On her deck were guns as big as steers,
And shells as big as trees.
Out of the cold and foggy night,
Came the British ship the Hood.
And ev'ry British seaman he knew and understood,
They had to sink the Bismarck, the terror of the sea.
Stop those guns as big as steers,
And those shells as big as trees.

We'll find that German battleship,
That's makin' such a fuss.
We gotta sink the Bismarck,
'Cause the world depends on us.
Yay, hit the decks a-runnin' boys,
And spin those guns around.
When we find the Bismarck we gotta cut her down.

The Hood found the Bismarck and on that fatal day.
The Bismarck started firin' fifteen miles away.
"We gotta sink the Bismarck" was the battle sound.
But when the smoke had cleared away,
The mighty Hood went down.
For six long days and weary nights,
They tried to find her trail.
Churchill told the people "Put ev'ry ship a-sail,
'Cause somewhere on that ocean,
I know she's gotta be.
We gotta sink the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea".

We'll find that German battleship,
That's makin' such a fuss.
We gotta sink the Bismarck,
'Cause the world depends on us.
Yay, hit the decks a-runnin' boys,
And spin those guns around.
When we find the Bismarck, we gotta cut her down.

The fog was gone the seventh day,
And they saw the mornin' sun.
Ten hours away from homeland,
The Bismark made its run.
The Admiral of the British fleet said,
Turn those bows around.
We found that German battleship,
And we're gonna cut her down.

The British guns were aimed,
And the shells were comin' fast.
The first shell hit the Bismarck,
They knew she couldn't last.
That mighty German battleship is just a memory.
"Sink the Bismarck!" was the battle cry,
That shook the seven seas.

We found that German battleship,
Was makin' such a fuss.
We had to sink the Bismarck,
'Cause the world depends on us.
We hit the deck a-runnin' and,
We spun those guns around.
We found the mighty Bismarck,
And then we cut her down.

We found that German battleship,
Was makin' such a fuss.
We had to sink the Bismarck,
'Cause the world depends on us.
We hit the deck a-runnin' and,
We spun those guns around.
We found the mighty Bismarck,
And then we cut her down.

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The Outremere: Temporary respite in Lebanon

The Parliament of the Republic of Lebanon finally elected a new president ( a position left vacant since November '07) and hopes run high that a measure of stability will be restored.

Former Commander in Chief of the Lebanese National Army, maronite Michel Sleiman, was chosen as a personality of general acceptance to lead the country to the 2009 elections where a government and a proper prime minister will be elected.

Stability by itself is not enough, of course, to solve the issues that plague and divide the multiconfessional population of Lebanon, issues that have compiled enormous blood debts unto the existing hatreds.


Photo of me under the flags of the major opposition parties of Lebanon, at the crossing to a Hezbollah-controlled district of Beyruth (click to enlarge and notice the posters of Sayeed Hassan Nassrallah to my left, Imad Mughniah almost directly behind me and to my right, the picture of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini). The Hezbollah operative on site did not allow us to use a camera, so this is a hurried cellphone picture. Photography by Thanassis Dimopoulos.

For the moment, however, any kind of truce is welcome, since Lebanon has seen no respite since Rafiq Hariri's assasination in 2005 which was followed by the Cedar Revolution and the withdrawal of the Syrians, the Hebrew bombings and invasion of 2006 and the ascension of Hezbollah as the most prominent political force in the country which undermined the sunni-maronite hold on power.

"Everybody in the Lebanon, we've got a ceasefire" video on the Mitch Benn son after the Hezbollah forces repelled the Hebrew invasion (and it seems rather appropriate now) :

PS:
" 'cause you know by Monday morning they'll be bombing us again but there's a ceasefire / and sing: Hezbo-, Hezbo-, lah, lah, lah, Hezbo-, Hezbo-, lah, lah, lah, Hezbo-, Hezbo-, lah, lah, lah, lah, lah, lah!!"

:)


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Kylie live @ TerraVibe, Athens, May 22, 2008 ("I love Kylie Minogue" post)

Yes!!! The definition of sexy was here for a live concert and I had tickets!! Why is she the definition of sexy? Well, with your help, she can prove it:

(That "No??" is probably the two sexiest letters ever uttered in human history)

Anyway, the concert ... it looked like a success from the very beginning when to the amusement of the gathering fans, several bimbos dragged the transmissions and tailpipes of their smarts and roadsters in the bumpy TerraVibe dirt, and it continued smoothly: the sound was crisp, the show was lush with colours, great choreography, themed costumes and a surprise performance of the 'Copacabana' ("Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl, with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there..." :> ) and Kylie looked great (though she did not wear anything too revealing), danced and moved with gusto and all in all, she lived up to any expectation her fans might have had.

Some pics:

Golden bits and streamers fired above the crowd towards the end of the concert.

(OK, How could I wipe the stupid smile from my face?! )

And a video comment... How times change: observe the choreography in the "Locomotion" video (virtually non-existent and the girls are fat) and the "Can't get you out of my head" masterpiece:

1988:






and 2001 (2002 MTV Music Video Award for Best Choreography) :

PS: We did not do the "Locomotion" but ... "Lucky, lucky, lucky, I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky in love..." :)))



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Imperial Journey: La Montanara (Das Lied der Berge)

On May 7, I landed at Charles de Gaulle airport to begin an arduous descent by train across the lands of the overlapping Empires of Europe. Before I write anything about the routes and stops of my imperial journey, I would like to publish some photos of my visit to the Alps, which was probably what moved me the most. Accompanied by a Tölzer Knabenchor video of them singing La Montanara (Das Lied der Berge), the hymn of the mighty Alps, whose lyrics I used as legend for the pictures:

Hörst du das Lied der Berge?
Die Berge sie grüßen dich

(Do you hear the song of the mountains?
The mountains salute you)

Hörst du mein Echo schallen
Und leise verhallen?

(Do you hear my echo ring out
and quiet down? )


Dort wo in blauer Ferne
Die Welten entschwinden
Möcht' ich dich wieder finden
Mein unvergessenes Glück?

(Over there, where the worlds vanish
in the blue distance
may I find you once more,
my unforgettable happiness?)


La Montanara, ohe !!!


Von Ferne rauscht der Wasserfall

(In the distance, the waterfall roars!)



Und durch die grünen Tannen
Bricht silbern das Licht

(And through the green firs
silver the light shines )



La Montanara, ohe !!!

Im Klang alter Lieder
Laut hallt mein Echo wieder
Nur du hörst es nicht

(In the sound of old songs
Loudly my echo rings out
and only you don't hear it)



Weit sind die Schwalben
Nach Süden geflogen
Über die ewigen Berge und Täler

(Away to the south
have the swallows flown
over the eternal mountains and valleys)


Und eine Wolke
Kam einsam gezogen

(And a cloud came,
drawn close, solitary)


Doch wart' ich immer
Vergeblich auf dich...

(Yet I wait for you,
forever in vain...)

PS I: Locations: Airbus A340-300 above the Alps, Innsbruck and surrounding area, Hafelekar mountain summit (2334m ), Swiss-Italian border (Lugano area)

PS II: All photos by me, ©. Click to enlarge.

PS III: No, I did not find a f@#%&ng Edelweiss, it was too early, everything was covered in snow...

PS IV: Dulljöh !

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Πώτς γένεν αυτό;

Κορυφαίες δηλώσεις Patrick Ogunsoto :



Πώτς γένεν αυτό ;


Άψογος! :-)

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The shadows of Paris.

One of the best songs by Henry Mancini ( possibly second only to Meglio stassera) from the Pink Panther: A Shot in the Dark OST. Great music and the lyrics are right at home.

Why must we meet in the shadows of Paris
where hardly a star seems to shine?

Why can't we meet in the sunlight of Paris
where Paris can see you are mine?

Have you come to me from another
whose lips you have tried?

Do you still belong to another?
Is that why we hide?

Why am I cold in the sunlight of Paris
where laughter and song fill the sky?

Why am I warm in the shadows of Paris
when I know that dawn means goodbye?

Have you come to me from another
whose lips you have tried?

Do you still belong to another?
Is that why we hide?

Why am I cold in the sunlight of Paris
where laughter and song fill the sky?

Why am I warm in the shadows of Paris
when I know that dawn means....




Goodbye.

PS Flying for Aéroport Paris-Charles de Gaulle, at dawn.

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The Sack of Rome

The Emperor, Charles V, by Titian

One of the most notable dates in my historical calendar is the Sack of Rome by renegade troops of the Holy Roman Empire on May 6, 1527.

Charles V, invictissimus imperator, caesar augustus romanorum cuius maiestas etc., etc.... was the only Holy Roman Emperor to have truly reigned over an Empire. Through the manipulations of the great Habsburg,his grandfather Maximilian, the Holy Roman Empire had come to include the lands of the Electors but also the Spanish Empire (with its overseas colonies and their gold) and Burgundy (with much of what today is BE-NE-LUX).

It is a shame that these were times of dreadful turmoil. The Reformation was gaining momentum and on top of that the Empire had to fight wars on many fronts as many of its enemies joined in impossible alliances to attack its might.

One of these unthinkable alliances was the League of Cognac, between France, Venice, Milan and Florence. (How on earth would Milan ever ally with Venice and both of them with the Papal States...)

In any case the italians have always been woefully pathetic in war since the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. Their condottieri (mercenary war leaders) did not so much as fight as put up a nice show of manoeuvre and nice uniforms. And although France traditionally fielded the heaviest, better equipped and noblest cavalry in the world, as Agincourt had shown, it was not enough.

Against them, the Emperor had the Landsknechte. An exceptional mercenary fighting force, the ruthless Landskechte had been organised by Maximilian under the command of the tirolean Georg von Frundsberg.

Georg von Frundsberg, lord of Mindelheim

The armies met in 1525 at Pavia, near Milan, where the alliance troops were decimated by the imperial forces that employed arquebus handguns in what was considered the first modern battle.

The Imperial victory was so complete that the french king himself was taken prisoner.

However the batlle was followed by 2 years of inconclusive campaigning during which the army drew closer to Rome (popular belief has it that during that time Frundsberg carried a golden rope to hang the Pope with).

Delays in payment, harassment from the Bande Nere, the only effective italian fighting force, under the command of Giovanni de' Medici (Giovanni delle Bande Nere) without a conclusive battle (even though Giovanni was eventually killed by a serpentine - or falconet - cannonball ) and a stroke that forced Frundsberg to retire undermined discipline in the Imperial army to the point of mutiny. They forced their commander, Charles III (Duke of Bourbon and Constable of France - how he fought against the french king? Well, it's the Rennaisance... duh...) to lead them to Rome.

The city's pathetic defences held a bit more than the lifetime of an exceptionally unstable nucleus under heavy neutron bombardment.

However, the Swiss Guard ( Cohors Pedestris Helvetiorum a Sacra Custodia Pontificis ) of the Pope (Clemens VII) gave their life to ensure that the Pope has enough time to flee to the Castello Sant' Angelo through a secret corridor (the now famous Passetto di Borgo).

The end of the passetto entering the Castello Sant' Angelo

The head of the defenders of the Castello Sant' Angelo was none other than the flamboyant jeweller and sculptor Benvenuto Cellini (whose statue Perseus is one of the greatest masterpieces of sculpture). Cellini, in his autobiography does more credit to himself than he (or any other italian) deserves for his role in the defence of the city and even claims responsibility for the death of Charles III.

Cellini's statue at the Galleria degli Uffizi ( in Florence...)

In any case, a fearful sack ensued. Villas and churches were plundered, women raped, works of art destroyed and even though the Emperor was shamed by the conduct of his troops, he would never again get any lip from the Pope whose obedience after his ransom was ensured, to the point of causing the schism with the English Church, because of his denial to annull Henry VIII's marriage to Catherine of Aragon in order to marry Anne Boleyn (because Catherine was the Emperor's aunt).

And then you ask me why I love the Rennaisance and the italians.... :-)

PS I: In a notable twist of fate, Martin Luther wrote: "Christ reigns in such a way that the Emperor who persecutes Luther for the Pope is forced to destroy the Pope for Luther" (Luther Werke 49:169)

PS II: Anathema sit on the Colonna family which sided with the Imperials to sack the Holy City, anathema, anathema, anathema...

PS III: If you have a piece of golden rope, well, now you know what to do with it: Go to Rome and hang the Pope!!!



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Søren Kierkegaard

Today is the birthday of the great Danish philosopher, Søren Kierkegaard. (5 May 1813 - 11 November 1855).

Kierkegaard is one of my favourites as in his writings I see the foundation of the austere (some would call it bleak) "scandinavian" existentialism that I came to love and admire initially through Ingmar Bergman's films.

In the first place, however, I came to reflect upon Kierkegaard's writings not because of Bergman's existentialism but because of a comment by Umberto Eco, about the Vatican's excessive reaction against Roger Peyrefitte's ridiculous accusations. I had in mind at the time the Corsaren (corsair) affair as an exemplary handling of bad and injust critics by the writer. When I looked deeper into it, one of Kierkegaard's article responses, The Activity of a Traveling Esthetician and How He Still Happened to Pay for Dinner ( En omreisende Æsthetikers Virksomhed, og hvorledes han dog kom til at betale Gjæstebudet ), locked me irrevocably into the thinking process of an intelligent writer/critic.

Indeed, it is my firm belief that in Foucault's Pendulum (by Umberto Eco), Jacopo Belbo's views about intelligent reading and editing instead of attempting to write are deeply Kierkegaardian in nature. Besides that, there are other unveiled references to Kierkegaard in that book: Belbo, in an imaginary anachronism, suggests - as a potential editor to a young William Shakespeare - to move Hamlet's plot from Italy to Denmark, because of the spectre of kierkegaardian austerity that looms above that land.

Another matter that makes Kierkegaard unique in his point of view regarding the human nature is his love for Regine Olsen. The words he addressed to her (quoted from Wikipedia's selection from his Journals) are indicative:

"Thou sovereign of my heart treasured in the deepest fastness of my chest, in the fullness of my thought, there ... unknown divinity! Oh, can I really believe the poet's tales, that when one first sees the object of one's love, one imagines one has seen her long ago, that all love like all knowledge is remembrance, that love too has its prophecies in the individual. ... it seems to me that I should have to possess the beauty of all girls in order to draw out a beauty equal to yours; that I should have to circumnavigate the world in order to find the place I lack and which the deepest mystery of my whole being points towards, and at the next moment you are so near to me, filling my spirit so powerfully that I am transfigured for myself, and feel that it's good to be here."

However, in self-destructive drama he broke their engagement and tried to alienate Regine because he believed that his calling and their relationship were incompatible things. He tried to appear cool and measured saying that he would marry: "in ten years, when I have begun to simmer down and I need a lusty young miss to rejuvenate me."

He never did.



The scribbling modern philosophy holds passion in contempt; and yet passion is the culmination of existence for an existing individual—and we are all of us existing individuals.

Afsluttende uvidenskabelig Efterskrift til de philosophiske Smuler
(Concluding Unscientific Postscript to the Philosophical Fragments)

ΥΓ: Εαν δοθεί ξανά η ευκαιρία για μακρά συζήτηση, Τάσο, θα σου αναλύσω την κιρκεγκάρντια, κατά βάση, άποψη περί συγγραφής που έχω. Απλώς χθές διακόπηκε η συζήτηση λόγω χαρμόσυνων οικογενειακών νέων. Till next time.

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The capitulation of Sveaborg

Today it is exactly 200 years since the shameful surrender of the Sveaborg naval fortress garrison to the besieging Russian forces, during the 1808-1809 Finnish war.

The grave of Augustin Ehrensvärd, the Swedish officer who oversaw the construction of the fortress (too bad I did not notice the cement pump at the background when I was taking the picture...)

The reasons that made the garrison commander capitulate are still a matter of debate. The garrison was 7000 men strong - about a third of the besieging force, which is an excellent ratio.

In any case, the surrender of the Sveaborg meant the effective end of any swedish hopes to successfully defend the province of Finland (north and eastern Finland was inaccessible because of its dense woods that a swedish officer had called "Adam's exile" - the key to Finland's defense lay in the south).

Indeed, at the end of the war, Sweden lost Finland which became a Grand Duchy in Imperial Russia.

When Finland succesfully gained its independence after the October Revolution and the Finnish Civil War the great leader of the Finns, Field Marshall Carl Gustav Emil Mannerheim inaugurated the birth of the Finnish State by addressing Sveaborg (meaning swedish fortress) as Suomenlinna (Finnish Castle).

Nowadays, the fortress is a museum and the complex of islands upon which it is built a UNESCO World Heritage Site. A few minutes by boat from Helsinki, it is a very pleasant excursion that is well recommended to anyone who visits the Finnish capital.

I will forgo the more cliche pictures I took when I visited Sveaborg in 2005 (with the exception of Augustin Ehrensvärd's grave) :

Shield from the prow of a Russian ship, with Czarist insignia (from the Suomenlinna museum)


The romantic gun: Young couple above one of the better preserved pieces of coastal artillery from the latter days of Suomenlinna's use as a naval fortress.



The real treat: The only "surviving" finnish submarine, the Vesikko, and one of the very few surviving U-boats (this one is a Type-II).


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The Weeping Song

The long tradition of May Day sadness holds fast.

For the occasion, nothing less than probably the best modern rock song ever written, a duet of Nick Cave and Blixa Bargeld in the vocals:

The Weeping Song
from The Good Son album by Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds,

Go son, go down to the water
And see the women weeping there
Then go up into the mountains
The men, they all are weeping too

Father, why are all the women weeping?
They are weeping for their men
Then why are all the men there weeping?
They are weeping back at them

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long

Father, why are all the children weeping?
They are merely crying son
O, are they merely crying, father?
Yes, true weeping is yet to come

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long

O father tell me, are you weeping?
Your face seems wet to touch
O then I'm so sorry, father
I never thought I hurt you so much

This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While we rock ourselves to sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long




But I won't be weeping long...

I wish I could say the same.

The death of Ayrton Senna: May 1, 1994

Ayrton Senna at the peak of his glory: The 1991 Monaco Grand-Prix. Those tunnel runs... and the way he blocked that bothersome Mansell

It would be probably the saddest Sunday in my life. And at the time, I was too young to know.

Disregarding Schumacher's pre-fab victories, Ayrton Senna was the greatest driver to compete in the F1 championship.

A devil hell-bent for victory in the track but a modest person in his life outside, Ayrton Senna inspired more people than any other driver in motorised sports.

And on that fateful Sunday, 1 May 1994, as Senna's Williams-Renault entered the Tamburello turn at the Imola track of San Marino disaster struck.
And Ayrton Senna was no more.

It was later that day that I heard of the official announcement of his death. Even today, I cannot find the words to describe that emptiness, from the death of an adolescence hero, even though at that day I had only driven a go-cart a couple of times.

Later that year I was furious that Robertio Baggio lost that penalty kick and handed Brazil the 1994 World Cup.

But then, the Brazilians stoud silent in the field and unfurled the banner : "Senna aceleramos juntos, o Tetra é nosso" and all fell into place. In a way, I could say "Grazie, Roberto...".

Some people are meant to accelerate together...

Rest in peace Ayrton. Your memory will never die.


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