A musical mystery…

Rivets were popping like firecrackers, exploding from their holds.

The skin thick as your fist screamed and twisted, now gashed wide open.

Then silence.

Except for the horrible sound of water.  Water where it shouldn’t be.

Named “Unsinkable,” but no one told the iceberg.

Certain survivors did tell of other, warmer sounds... “Many brave things were done that night, but none were more brave than those done by men playing minute after minute as the ship settled quietly, lower and lower in the sea. The music they played served alike as their own immortal requiem and their right to be recalled on the scrolls of undying fame.”

Theodore Brailey, Roger Bricoux, John Clarke, Wallace Hartley, John Hume, Georges Krins, Percy Taylor, John Woodward…

Eight bright souls played until the lights went out.

When everything is still, if you listen gently,

you can hear the song

that was in their hearts.

All ships sink, eventually.

What song will be in your heart, when the lights go out?

Pondering this musical mystery, Gavin Bryars composed The Sinking of the Titanic circa 1970.

Here it is, an arrangement performed by the Trinity Laban Conservatoire.

Careful, this song can tear you up.

Buckle your seat belt for the first two minutes…

You might need a lifeboat, for the last two minutes.

A bad day at work…

The large enemy force (over 20,000) continued to march across rural Australia.

Striking at the local economy, they decimated acres of crops and farmland.

The locals demanded a national military response.

In early November, 1932, the Royal Australian Army launched a counter-attack.

Deploying artillery and machine gun units to the area, the RAA prepared troops to drive out the rebel faction.

During one early skirmish, an enemy force of 1,000 marched into an ambush of Australian machine guns.

But the guns jammed and only 12 enemy combatants were killed, the rest escaping on foot.

After consecutive battles proved just as disappointing, ornithologist Dominic Serventy provided this commentary…

“The enemy command had evidently ordered guerrilla tactics, and its unwieldy army soon split up into innumerable small units that made use of the military equipment uneconomic. A crestfallen Australian field force therefore withdrew from the combat area after about a month.”

Major Meredith, commander of the RAA 7th Heavy Battery, had this to say during his retreat…

“If we had a military division with the bullet-carrying capacity of these birds it would face any army in the world… They can face machine guns with the invulnerability of tanks.”

The Royal Australian Army had lost The Great Emu War.

That’s right. This formidable enemy force? FLIGHTLESS BIRDS.

Whenever I’m having a bad day, it helps to remember that Australia lost a war with some emus.