The InkwellSalford, 10th July 2020
#Airfix #Quickbuild #Model
To pass the time during lockdown – i’ve been building
A few planes and Jet Fighters to pass the time
Now, today i’ve made something a little different
Keep your eyes peeled and you may see what rolled up today
IWM North, September 2018
an acrostic poem by inkdrop, on the newest arrival in the Main exhibition space of
IWM North in Trafford….
Made up at the Locomotion works in Bolton
A Machine to bring terror to the enemies eyes
Thundering across land and desert
Hot on the tail of any enemy Infantry
In time, tales would be told about her and her thundering wheels
Launching shells and ammo towards the enemy
Dangerous ? all missions are aren’t they
Allies relying on this mighty armoured tank
IWM North via Salford, 26th March 2018
We’re losing an old friend in a few days time.
The Russian T-34 Tank , having spent 13 years in Greater Manchester, notedly around the Cold war area of the Main exhibition space, will be on its way back to its owner before heading off to pastures new
The boys and girls from exhibitions have already started to get it going, in preparation for the move.
It’ll still be around for a short while, whilst the team work out the logistics of moving The T-34 and replacing it with the new exhibit.
A New Tank, the Mathilda , will be taking its place.
Won’t be forgetting this one though – as i wrote a verse or two about it – you can read that here
#UPDATE – 2nd April 2018.
The T-34 has now left the building, and the boys and girls from operations have updated the parking space in the MES in prep for the new tanks arrival – more when i have it.
Greetings , Comrade!
Have we met somewhere before?
I’m a veteran of the second world war…
You’ll recognise my number,
I’m the T-34
In my vast solid frame, worked a brave crew of five
My only aim – was to keep them alive
On Russias front, we fought ‘gainst an enemy foe
My strong tracks moved forward, and away we’d go!
My wheels drove the tracks, like cossacks of old
leaving mighty marks in the snow and the cold
Commander gave orders, and Gunners fired shells
Gunpowder and burning were familiar smells
We fought for our country, and sometimes our meals,
whilst the enemy we fought had other ideals
Their crack soldiers ran when they saw me appear
as my shells would explode wherever they were near.
But Now, i’m retired,
to a home in the west.
Educating Children, quietly
is what i do best.
The Inkwell