Past Life Regression: A Case History
This experience was sent in to us with kind permission to reprint, by S J Robinson.
What do you think to it? Please send your comments (or, indeed you OWN story) to firstname.lastname@example.org
S J Robinson has written a wonderful book of poems, appropriately entitled "Hindsight".
Hindsight would make a wonderful gift for anyone interested in War time. Below are some more notes about S J Robinson's fascinating experience and a small sample selection of her poems.
This book will soon be available online.
I believe that in my past life, I was a soldier of the 15th Royal Scots in the Great War. I actually only came across the regimental details this week.
Any way, my earliest memory/dream is dying in a war hospital, followed by (seeing life in reverse type of thing) being carried out of a trench through a screen of tree to the hospital.
I am watching myself from above left. I am on a stretcher and have a bandage round my head, with a large patch of blood soaked through on the left--I was younger than 2 when I had this dream.
Unless it was the final memory from my previous life. nothing much happened then, apart from the fact that I insisted my name was really Tommy.
I was three and watching the cenotaph service - I proceeded to tell my mum I wanted to go to the Somme.
She told me it was a nasty place and I promptly described it to her.
Since then there have been several instances like this. I always wanted to go to the battlefields too.
I have a dent in my head where the blood was in the dream/memory and when I have a migraine that's where it hurts.
I have a knee problem which the doctor says he would have said was caused by a slash with something like a bayonet - only there's no visible wound - the list goes on.
Most significant was when I had a nervous breakdown that started on July 1st 1996--80 years to the day the Somme started and the doc said the nearest thing he could equate the symptoms to is First World war shellshock.
I have been to the battle fields twice and have directed the bus driver when he got lost - there is much more, but I won't bore you.
Perhaps the oddest thing is that as a female who has never really read any war poetry,
I am now the country's youngest published 'war poet' and had my first one published at 17 after it was given to me, by a voice 'in' my head when I was at the battle fields.
I don't actually know the name of the soldier as we think the ''Tommy' came from British soldiers being called that - although it may have of course been that my name was Thomas.
The other name that means something to me is Charles but I would dearly love to know the name. someone suggested the surname might be Evans, but I 'm not sure, and getting permission to explore regimental lists is difficult to come by!
How I found out about the regimental details might interest you. I saw a programme where they were excavating some war dead in an effort to identify them for proper burial.
As soon as I noticed one particular body, I started feeling really sick with pounding dizziness in my head - then they turned him over and his helmet fell off his skull and the lady pointed to a bullet hole in the left.
My mum said to me "Why is it so smashed up where the exit wound would be?" and I went to explain to her but I couldn't speak but only point to my head. Mum said I'd gone as white as a sheet then she said "That's you, isn't it? " (she understands a bit)
Anyway, this guy was buried with the 15th Royal Scots , at the Somme, near where I'd directed the bus driver to before - so it's the right place and I've loved Scotland for a long time, and always feel patriotic for their side when they play football etc, even if its against the English!
And when I was little, the only skirt I would ever wear was a kilt!
But back to the point - the investigators discarded that body because it didn't have enough identifying evidence, other than that showing his regiment, for them to be able to do anything with so I never got to hear what they thought his name was.
But, that night, I was in so much pain in the appropriate sections of my head that my mother had to sit up with me, and the ache and sickness continued through the next day.
I've tried to regress myself to find out the name but it seems I'm not meant to find out!
OLD FRIEND'S LAST REQUEST
Do you see those footprints in the snow?
Now young men boast of loves, careers
From Us make them learn, let then receive
Let their spring, let their skies stay fine
Here, once, a soldier died in stalemate slow
The shells, the noise, the battle throng,
Eighteen or twenty, maybe less,
A chilling hush fills the mourning air
The most worthy monument? A poppied field.
FALLEN IN ACTION
They said he had fallen, fallen from grace:
He'd fought at Wipers, Mons and The Somme:
Then last night in a barrage, the Germans advanced
But he couldn't run, couldn't move, couldn't speak
They say he ran, deserted his station
They'll shoot him at dawn, it'll say on his grave
LAMENT OF THE FALLEN
We don't want your pity
We just want you memory
We don't want no pity
(Tyne cot is the largest War Grave Commission cemetery in the world and holds around 12,000 allied graves, plus 3 German causalities. On the surrounding walls are engraved the names of 35,000 unknown soldiers lost in the Ypres Salient, Belgium, in the latter stages of the conflict)
(We must remember with compassion those who survived the War
I was young when I went to war...
'T was the War that made me old
'Til, like an old man, I was left
A LITTLE WONKY
A little wonky, little wonky
O! Tumbling shell tonight
A little wonky, little wonky.
THE WAR MEMORIAL
A war memorial, standing straight
Do you recall men went to war?
Most men fought and some men died
They suffered long-in trench and pit
I am not here to glorify war
To a Friend - THE 'EMINENT' PSYCHOLOGIST
(W.H.R. Rivers 1864-1922)
Sanity, Friend, who understood
Mentor, teacher, who never judged
Though tired, he performed his task
My dear friend, Rivers, where 'ere you are,
ELEVEN, ELEVEN, ELEVEN
I woke and it was morning
The nurses all were laughing
Eleven, Eleven, Eleven!
Author and Artist Sue Robinson can be contacted on email@example.com
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