Zeppelins by Nancy Cunard

In the past month of reading, Zeppelins and the air war of World War One keeps coming up. Most recently, I learned that the towns of King's Lynn and Great Yarmouth were the first to be bombed in the new form of war from above. On the nights of January 19 and 20, 1915, two Zeppelins set out for Humberside but were blown down the east coast by strong winds. King's Lynn and Great Yarmouth were there alternate targets. Four people were killed, sixteen injured.

King's Lynn and Great Yarmouth were Saturday destinations during my boarding school days in East Anglia.

Toady I came across a poem by Nancy Cunard, an interesting character in her own right. She was an heir to the great Cunard Line shipping fortune. From Wikipedia.

Nancy Clara Cunard (10 March 1896 – 17 March 1965) was a writer, heiress and political activist. She was born into the British upper class and devoted much of her life to fighting racism and fascism. She became a muse to some of the 20th century's most distinguished writers and artists, including Wyndham Lewis, Aldous Huxley, Tristan Tzara, Ezra Pound and Louis Aragon, who were among her lovers, Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Constantin Brâncuși, Langston Hughes, Man Ray, and William Carlos Williams.

Her poem on a Zeppelin bombing raid she experienced in London.

Zeppelins
by Nancy Cunard

I saw the people climbing up the street
Maddened with war and strength and thoughts to kill;
And after followed Death, who held with skill
His torn rags royally, and stamped his feet.

The fires flamed up and burnt the serried town,
Most where the sadder, poorer houses were;
Death followed with proud feet and smiling stare,
And the mad crowds ran madly up and down.

And many died and hid in unfounded places
In the black ruins of the frenzied night;
And death still followed in his surplice, white
And streaked in imitation of their faces.

But in the morning men began again
To mock Death following in bitter pain.