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In My Blood | Part One

In My Blood Masterlist

Curtis "Curt" Biddick x SOE!Female Reader

The aftermath of the Schweinfurt-Regensburg mission floods the Belgian countryside with American fliers, including one very injured Curtis Biddick. On a regular supply run to a Resistance contact, you suddenly find him sharing your regular place of shelter for the night, a simple coincidence that very well may change the course of the rest of your life.

Warnings: Language, Violence, Weapons, Spy Craft, Death, Injuries, Angst, Suffering, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This story contains revisionist history, read at your own risk. Reader is half-Belgian, half-English and has been given an extensive backstory and family tree. While they have been given the codename of "Marie," no physical descriptions or Y/N are used.

Italics used for non-English words and to indicate dialogue spoken in a language other than English.

This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 4200

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August 17, 1943

Pouring from the sky like a summer rain…you had never seen so many downed airmen in one day. It seemed the American Air Force had mounted some great attack. An attack that was met with what must have been every single Luftwaffe fighter plane that now infected your native Belgian soil. The majority were captured by Nazi soldiers, Gestapo, or collaborators the moment their boots hit the ground, keen eyes following the tracks of parachutes as they floated to the ground. But the lucky ones got away, stayed hidden, or were greeted by more friendly faces.

The efforts you had been putting in over the past three months on the exfiltration routes for downed airmen in Western Europe – helping to rebuild and reshape the Pat O’Leary Line into the Françoise Line after the arrest of its former chief, connecting the Belgian-run Comet Line with monetary and equipment-based support from MI9’s agent Jerome in Paris – the timing could not have been better for the sheer demand that the events of the day would put upon them. They were as strong as they could be and yet undoubtedly these numbers would overwhelm them.

Born the only child of a Belgian Jonkheer and the second daughter of the Marquess of Abergavenny, that you would end up as an agent of the Special Operations Executive had been as foreseeable as the Nazi invasion of Belgium. Unexpected and yet altogether unsurprising given circumstance and history.

Entirely too fond of fast cars, cigarettes, gin, and learning the fascinating operations of your father’s iron factories in Wallonia for your mother’s taste, you had been forced off to England in the spring of 1939 to support your cousin Philomena Nevill during her debut. It had been hoped, you supposed, that under the watchful eye of your grandmother, the Dowager Marchioness, that your ‘good breeding’ might suddenly become apparent. That the tomboy whom her father adoringly called mon petit monstre might be transformed into a lady under the onslaught of balls, polo matches, regattas, and horse races all whilst trussed up like some prized pony at a meat market. Never mind that you were three years older than the fresh flesh of the debutantes on display.

All that had been achieved was to put you in the same rooms as the likes of Lord Halifax, Prime Minister Chamberlain, and First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill. The only topic of discussion you had been interested in was the growing threat posed by Hitler with his growing Nazi empire and the fact that your parents remained in your home country right on his doorstep had weighed heavily upon you. There had been a tremendous argument in September, following the invasion of Poland and declaration of war by Britain and her allies. Your father had insisted he must remain to care for his business, his workers, his property. Your mother had insisted that she would remain to care for him. As one united front, all your relatives, including your uncle, the current Marquess, had insisted you remain in England where it was safe.

And so you had found yourself marooned on that unfamiliar island through the fall and winter of the phony war, dread heavy and sour in your stomach as military preparation took precedence over everything. With naught much else to do, you had volunteered with the Red Cross, fundraising as a member of the upper class, outspoken in your distaste for fascism. The watchful waiting came to an abrupt end on May 10, 1940, when the world awoke to the news that the Nazis had invaded the Netherlands, Luxembourg, France, and Belgium in one fell swoop.

Within eighteen days, Luxembourg, the Netherlands and Belgium had surrendered, France was on the verge, and you were orphaned. The hollow, inherited title of Jonkvrouw was all that remained of your parents after an unfortunate run in with a Stuka dive bomber on a bridge out of Brussels, so the letter from your father’s personal secretary read. The post-mark was from Marseilles, confirming that your father had sent everyone else to safety before trying to obtain the very same for himself. It had simply been too late.

Lest you fall to pieces over the loss of your home and family in such quick succession, to be caught grieving in unfamiliar formal homes amongst people you barely knew, you had sought refuge in purpose. Volunteering for the Auxiliary Territorial Service, you put your skills as a motorist to good use. Yet it never felt like enough. Driving lorries full of supplies across the English countryside while sailors and airmen risked their lives made you feel utterly impotent, particularly as the horrific bombing campaigns wore on. Mercifully, more meaningful opportunities found their way to you in the form of Vera Atkins and the SOE. Your social circles overlapped, on occasion, and she had proposed an altogether different use of your unique upbringing, for the four languages you spoke simply by virtue of traipsing across Belgium on your father’s coattails – for the country consisted of French, Dutch, and German speaking peoples and he had insisted you learn them all. While your mother had insisted you spoke only the King’s English with her.

The preliminary school had been difficult, filled with unexpected challenges and daring tasks such as crossing a rope strung between two trees high above the ground. Pure fury at the invasion of your homeland and murder of your parents had carried you through onto the paramilitary school, where you had learned how to master weapons, and hand-to-hand combat. It was then onto parachuting school, as the only way to return to now fully occupied Europe was by low-flying aircraft in the dead of night, and finally finishing school to hone your spy craft.

It was early 1943 by the time you were ready to be dropped into occupied territory, all under the auspices of a deployment to Scotland with the ATS, your extended family none the wiser as you plummeted into an empty field in Northern France to begin your work. By the time the heat of August came around you were proficient at cycling long distances with burdens of weapons and cash, sneaking across the border, making connections on both the French and Belgian side. Making one such delivery of fresh funds for the Françoise line contact brought you to the Flanders village of Beverst that warm summer day.

The small clinic of Doctor Legot, with his flat above, boasted a sizeable cellar, perfect for hosting resistance meetings or the occasional guest such as yourself. He was also a natural community figure for those from all walks of life to visit, obtaining more than just medical advice, though thus far the Gestapo had not caught wise. Letting yourself through the gate into the back garden, you concealed your bicycle amidst some conveniently overgrown shrubbery and slung your handbag over your shoulder before carrying your worn suitcase into the clinic which seemed rather empty for a Tuesday afternoon.

Greeting his receptionist Edda in Dutch, she gestured you down the hall to Dr. Legot’s office. Proceeding with a nod of thanks, you knocked on the door, quietly stepping in as he called out casually in Dutch.

“Enter!”

As you swung the door open, his head, covered in the thin remainder of caramel hair, shorn close to control its obvious curl, lifted to regard you warmly before falling serious.

“You could not have come on a better day, Marie.” He spoke solemnly, addressing you by the cover name bestowed upon you by the SOE, snapping the patient file he had been reviewing shut.

Stepping fully into the office, you quietly shut the door behind you, setting the suitcase on his desk to deliver the promised funds.

“Indeed, it seems you have been blessed with quite a few visitors today, Doctor.”

You watched silently as he carefully took stack after stack of Belgian francs, tucking them into his safe under his desk.

“More than we have places for, honestly. If you are looking for a place for the night you will have to share accommodations.”

Tight as your grip was on your facial expressions, you still felt your eyebrows twitch in surprise as Dr. Legot rarely housed downed airmen as he himself was not able to speak English and found their behaviour wildly unpredictable, at best. He was a man who preferred things neat and orderly. It was only by respecting his preferences that you had earned repeated shelter under his roof.

“I know, Marie,” he continued, obviously having caught your micro expression, “but the man is in a bad way. Brought his plane down in Maes’ orchard – a feat the boys could not stop commenting upon as they carried him in, even as the pilot was bleeding all over my floor. No one has even asked him if he wants to surrender or explained what trying to evade capture entails.”

“Hm.” You intoned thoughtfully. “Does he need a hospital?”

The middle-aged man settled his broad frame into his worn wooden desk chair with a pronounced ‘creak,’ exhaling heavily in contemplation. “Not need, no. If he chooses to run, he will need maybe two months recovery, but I can manage I suppose.”

The furrow of his brow and the pinched lines around his mouth spoke to his distinct lack of enthusiasm at the prospect, but like so many involved in resistance, his hatred for the Nazis greatly outweighed any other personal preferences after three years of occupation.

“I will give him the speech then, he ought to make an informed decision. Would you mind covering his eyes for me in case his choice is surrender?”

Relief washed across the man’s features, and he nodded quickly, grabbing a roll of bandages.

“Come down in five minutes.”

You nodded in agreement, allowing yourself those five minutes of rest in the safety of Legot’s office, a place you could let your guard down for a little while, until the minute hand of your watch completed its fifth trip around the face. Making your way to the back of the clinic, you stepped into the storage room to the open trap door leading down to the cellar, descending the worn ladder carefully.

Turning in the space lit only by candles, you frowned slightly to see the wounded man, one leg protruding from beneath the sheets swathed in bandages – most likely covered in burns. Stepping closer to the cot that you realized had been carried down especially for this patient, your small twin bed untouched in its usual corner, you swallowed tightly to see more bandages wrapped around the man’s neck, his right arm in a plaster cast and sling. That truly must have been some landing.

“You are certain he does not need a hospital?” You were not usually one to question a doctor’s opinion, but the look of this man left you full of doubt.

Would you not be risking his life hiding him in this cellar in this condition?

You watched a smile tug at his chapped, pink lips.

“You brought a dame, doc?”

Despite the fact that his eyes were covered in bandages, for the sake of protecting your identity, you could definitely read the mischief in his expression.

“Quite certain.” Doctor Legot bristled and gestured sharply for you to get on with it.

Clearing your throat, you summoned all the authority of your grandmother, as well as her haughty vowels, as you spoke. “Airman, listen carefully.”

The pilot’s head snapped slightly in your direction. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He grinned broadly.

The unexpected statement stole the wind from your sails, drawing an incredulous laugh from your throat. “You cannot even see me.”

“Can hear it in your voice.” He insisted smugly and you shook your head sharply – in part to clear it.

“Regardless, I am here you to offer you a choice. We can take you now to the local authorities for surrender, you will become a prisoner of war under the protection of the Geneva Convention and receive further medical care in a hospital. You will remain a prisoner for the rest of the war in relative safety. Or, you can remain here, rest and heal, and when you are ready, we will try and get you back to England. You would be dressed as a civilian and if caught, treated as a spy and shot without trial. Knowing all this, what is your choice? Turn yourself in or try and escape?”

“I will never turn myself into those Nazi fucks…pardon my French ma’am.” He smirked and you bit back another laugh at the preposterous expression.

“Very well. You will stay here and do everything Doctor Legot says. No argument, no trouble.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.”

Sighing at his incorrigible nature, you turned to the doctor and nodded.

“He will stay and try to escape.”

“Very well, I have one more appointment today and then I will bring you both some dinner later. Thank you, Marie.” He made his way up the ladder stiffly before securing the trapdoor shut, closing you both into your hiding place.

Reaching forward you gently began to unwind the bandages from his eyes, breath hitching in your throat at the brilliant blue that squinted back up at you.

“Knew you were gorgeous. Marie? I’m Curt.”

“Pleased to meet you.” You replied, doing your best to maintain some professional sense of formality. “You should rest.” Moving to the opposite side of the cellar, you sat onto the mattress that was about as exhausted as you, the springs groaning in protest.

“Yeah, probably right…hey did, did the Doc say if they pulled anyone else from the plane?” His expression was filled with a boyish hopefulness that made you long for a better answer.

“He didn’t, no, but I will ask around tomorrow.”

A soft smile graced his features. “Thanks gorgeous, you’re a gem.” He sighed drowsily and you watched as he was quickly pulled into sleep, so very fragile draped across the cot, swaddled in all those bandages.

In just eight weeks would he truly be ready to face tense train rides and a hike across the Pyrenees?

Your doubts were greatly eased the next time you laid your eyes upon him five weeks later, returning from a guiding run to Toulouse with several airmen who had been downed that day in August including a man named Claytor with a rather remarkable twang to his speech. You bore candles, medical supplies, and extra rations for Doctor Legot, knowing he was undoubtedly going through all at a prodigious rate with his unexpected long-term guest in the cellar. Your trusty suitcase also held an Agatha Christie murder mystery, an English book procured at great difficulty, and a selection of French comic books – while he may not speak the language, you were hoping the pictures would be sufficient entertainment in his subterranean dwelling.

As you climbed down the familiar ladder in the candlelit cellar, handbag swinging on your shoulder, you were startled to find Curt on his feet, looking prepared to try and catch you if you should fall, even with one arm still in a cast. Reaching for your suitcase as the doctor lowered it down for you, he cried your name in greeting.

“Marie! Thought you got lost or something up there.” His grin could only be described as cheeky, his charmingly blunt features only growing more handsome under the display of his playful side. He was dressed in clothes that had no doubt been obtained from a sympathetic local; brown woollen trousers held up by suspenders over a blue flannel shirt, a pair of worn leather boots on his feet.

“Curt.” You nodded politely, setting your case on the foot of your bed. “You are looking well.”

“Doc has performed a miracle, just waiting on this bone to finish healing, then I’ll be right as rain.” He nodded firmly, bandages replaced by a network of fresh red scars creeping up the left side of his neck into his dark brown hair.

Unlocking the latches on your luggage, you opened it carefully, retrieving the assortment of reading material you had collected. “Well, I thought since you might no longer be sleeping so much you might…appreciate something to read.”

Curt’s eyes, clearer than your last encounter, dropped to the comic books and novel you held out to him, eyes widening before he took them with a slow grin. “Been thinking about me out there on your travels?”

“Ensuring your stay with the good doctor remains without incident.” You replied nonchalantly, turning back to organizing your belongings before tucking the suitcase beneath the bed.

When you turned back to him, sinking down onto the mattress to rest your sore legs after your long cycle from Antwerp, he was watching you with a bemused expression.

“Appreciated all the same, Marie. Maybe I’ll learn a little French or something.”

“I thought…maybe the pictures?” You tilted your head and he nodded quickly.

“Definitely.” His grin was all too warm, showing his perfect American teeth and made you turn your attention to the small date book you kept in your shoulder bag, quickly looking over your coded appointments for the next few days.

There were several drops arranged for the area – weapons and radios directly flown from England, set to arrive over the next few nights. Most for the Belgian resistance, though two radios were earmarked for the Comet Line. Night drops were some of the most dangerous things you attempted, but when they were successful, the supplies, otherwise impossible to obtain under Nazi occupation, were invaluable.

“Sure look serious over there, gorgeous. Furrow those brows any harder and they’ll get stuck like that.” Curt’s voice cut through your concentration, your head jerking up to blink up at him as though you were startled he was still there.

The sound of the trap door scraping open saved you from trying to produce some reply. “That’ll be dinner.” You murmured, walking to the bottom of the ladder to accept one bowl and then another of thin vegetable soup followed by half a loaf of bread.

You nodded gratefully to Curt as he stepped forward to take one of the bowls with his good hand.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“See you in a few hours, Marie.”

Carefully setting your bowl on dusty brick floor, you tore the bread roughly in half, offering him the larger portion before retrieving your soup and retreating to your bed.

“He doesn’t cook too bad for a doctor.” Curt commented after swallowing a large sip of soup, taking from the rim of his bowl, and you could not help your small smile.

“I think he enjoys it? Talks about ingredients a lot – how hard some of them are to come by lately.” You shrugged and ate more slowly, savouring every bite as it had been a few days since you had been able to enjoy a warm meal, and Legot was indeed a skilled cook.

“How ‘bout you? You cook?”

You barely contained your wry laugh, shaking your head. Even if you’d had access to a kitchen these days, you certainly had not been raised anywhere near a stove. “My lifestyle isn’t really conducive to cooking, unfortunately.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “My Ma would probably skin me alive if I tried to get in her way in the kitchen. Sisters, too. My Pa and I knew better than to get involved in things we’re hopeless at.”

Licking your spoon clean of every last morsel of soup before moving to swipe a piece of bread through the bowl, you could not help your curiosity. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Two. The apartment back home isn’t big, but the five of us get along alright.” His smile was broad as he leaned back against the cinderblock wall, food long ingested. “What about you? Your family? Where are you from?”

His questions were numerous, bubbling out of him rapidly and making you swallow the half-chewed chunk of bread in your mouth roughly. “Belgium. Do not have one.” You replied evasively before taking another rough bite.

“Just fell out of the sky then? Like some kind of angel?” He teased and you choked a little on your next swallow before managing to get it down.

It would not do for him to know how oddly accurate his jest had been.

“I have to run an errand later tonight, so I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep.” You stood to dust the crumbs from your skirt, setting your empty bowl on the floor.

“An errand in the middle of the night…?”

“Mn.” You grunted in agreement as you toed off your shoes, pulling back the covers before sliding in between the sheets, laying with your back to him.

“Say, Marie?” He asked quietly and you slid your eyes back open.

“Yes?”

“Did you manage to ask around ‘bout…my crew?” There was a soft vulnerability to his tone, his playful bravado seeming to melt away, that made your heart drop.

You honestly had not been sure if he would have remembered that conversation weeks ago, barely conscious and in so much pain. You had of course done as promised, swinging by the Maes farm only to be told that he had was the sole survivor, the rest of the crew set to be buried in the local cemetery by the Nazis – with military honours. What an oddly cruel irony that seemed, to only afford your enemy honour in death.

“I’m sorry, Curt.” You shifted onto your side to face him. “There was no one else who survived.”

An impassive mask fell over his face, his animated expression going blank as he nodded before shifting to lay back on his cot, tucking his hands behind his head. “Thanks for checking.” He mumbled quietly.

“Of course.” You replied softly watching him turn his back to you before doing the same with a soft sigh, duty reminding you that you needed to sleep while you could, a long night ahead of you.

It felt as though you had barely fallen asleep when the scraping of the trap door woke you abruptly. Tossing the covers from your body, you grabbed your handbag, feeling the reassuring weight of your .25 calibre Wembley semi-automatic pistol and F-S knife contained within. Curt glanced back over his shoulder as you slid into your shoes, and you nodded to him.

“Go back to sleep, errand time.” You whispered, collecting both of your supper dishes to pass up to Doctor Legot before ascending the ladder yourself.

Cycling out to the appointed field, you waited hidden amongst the trees with several members of the resistance, the silence of the night unsettling. You knew the plane would fly in low to avoid radar, would cut the engine close to the target to throw off nearby soldiers, but it was a long way from the coast to here. The distant drone of a plane engine reaching your ears made your pulse jump and you forced your breathing to remain even and quiet, every muscle tensing as even the sound of the plane fell silent. Squinting through the trees into the night sky, you licked your lips in anticipation as you spotted the first of several crates falling towards the ground, suspended below parachutes to slow their descent.

Clutching your small spade tightly, you waited until the supplies began landing on the ground before the entire group emerged from the foliage to begin disconnecting the parachutes. Working in concert with others you dug a hole and quickly tossed the telltale silk in before covering it up with earth and tamping it down. Securing the two radios for the Comet Line, cleverly disguised as suitcases, you helped load the rest of the crates and spades into the waiting truck before everyone quickly dispersed into the night.

While your inclination was the cycle headlong towards the safety of the clinic, you forced yourself to maintain a reasonable speed, one that would not attract attention, while taking a rather circuitous route. The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten as you returned to your hiding place, using the spare key to sneak in the back. Taking a moment to wash your hands in the small washroom for patients, you then carefully descended with the radios and closed the trapdoor. It made quite a racket as it slid home when pulled from the inside, startling Curt from his rest and you frowned apologetically.

“Sorry, everything is fine, go back to sleep.” You murmured, setting the newly procured radios off to the side.

“You’re just getting back now?” He scrubbed a hand down his face tiredly, glancing at his watching blearily.

“Don’t fret about me, rest up, regain your strength.” You smiled wearily and slid back into your bed gratefully.

“There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye, Marie…” A jaw-cracking yawn overtook his statement before he shimmied down beneath his blankets and succumb to sleep once more.

“You have no idea.” You whispered under your breath, settling in for a few hours more sleep before you had to begin your journey to deliver the newly acquired radios to the Comet Line before moving onto the next drop destination.

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In My Blood Masterlist

Tag list: @precious-little-scoundrel, @luminouslywriting, @polikabra

#curtis biddick x reader #curt biddick x reader #curtis biddick #curt biddick #mota fic #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

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grandmaster-anne · 1 year

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The Queen’s favourite horses

By TERRY PENDRY LVO, BEM STUD GROOM AND MANAGER TO HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN, WINDSOR CASTLE

Horse & Hound | Published 11 June 2020

IT’S almost impossible to name all the horses and ponies that Her Majesty has enjoyed over the decades. You have to bear in mind she breeds racehorses, carriage horses, hunters, sports and riding horses, and also polo ponies when, back in the day, His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh was playing at a very high level.

There are, of course, the rare breeds such as Cleveland Bays for the carriages at Buckingham Palace and of course her beloved Highland and Fell ponies.

Here, we cover just a few of Her Majesty’s special horses and ponies. It only scratches the surface of all those The Queen has bred. There are so many more that could be spoken of. Her knowledge and expertise is well known. She names all of her horses and ponies herself and can remember the parentage of every single one.

She still enjoys riding to this very day, and it is an important part of her life. Her Majesty has a fountain of knowledge in all things equine, you might say a living encyclopedia.

Betsy

WE would have to start with Betsy, a 15.2hh black-brown mare that Her Majesty used to ride in the 1960s. Betsy was full of character and spirit and much enjoyed by The Queen.

Burmese

BURMESE was presented to Her Majesty in 1969 by The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and The Queen rode her in Trooping the Colour for 18 years before the mare retired in 1986 to Windsor. There she enjoyed four years before passing away at the age of 28. Burmese is buried in the grounds of the Home Park private.

Doublet

PRINCESS ANNE, as she was then, won the European Eventing Championships at Burghley on Doublet in 1971.

Would you believe he was bred to be a polo pony? But he obviously grew and could jump, so became a fine ride for Princess Anne – meaning that The Queen bred both the horse and rider!

Columbus

A FEW weeks ago, the Horse & Hound featured Captain Mark Phillips in its Legends series (21 May). One of the horses he mentioned was Columbus, a 17.1hh grey sired by Colonist – who was Winston Churchill’s stallion that stood at Sandringham Stud for a period of time.

Princess Anne first evented Columbus at novice and intermediate level but found him too strong, saying that he was more of a man’s ride. His stable name was The Monster.

Although Columbus was plagued with leg injuries, he won Badminton in 1974 — which made Her Majesty very proud. He also hunted and team chased, and even jumped round the old Grand National course with relish and ease. Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother always said he was the Grand National horse that never was. She would have loved him for herself.

Sanction

THIS brown riding horse was a firm favourite for many years. The photograph was our Golden Jubilee picture with a beautiful acer tree with its golden leaves in the background.

Sanction, this issue’s cover star, was almost telepathic and had a very strong bond with Her Majesty and would almost know what The Queen wanted and in which direction she would like to go before instructed to do so.

He sadly passed away in the autumn of that same year, 2002, at the age of 24. He is also buried in the grounds of the Home Park private.

Sanction was the last home-bred horse that Her Majesty rode before making the decision to start riding native ponies. A little nearer to the ground, so to speak.

Balmoral Jingle and Balmoral Curlew

TWO beautiful Highland ponies made for a most natural choice. Balmoral Jingle (above, left) and Balmoral Curlew were shown by Lizzie Briant before joining The Royal Mews at Windsor. Both ponies were a huge success in the show ring and eventually went on to become broodmares at the Balmoral Stud.

Emma

FROM Highlands to Fells. This lovely picture is of Fell pony Emma. Again produced in the show ring by Lizzie Briant, Emma has been a wonderful servant to Her Majesty and is still going strong at the age of 24 as one of The Queen’s riding ponies.

The Fell Pony Society came to honour The Queen’s 90th birthday and said they would like to bring 90 ponies. They came with 120! They lined the red route of the castle for Her Majesty, who sat on His Royal Highness’ driving Fell pony team followed by Emma. It truly was a wonderful day.

Pictures by Godfrey Argent, Getty Images, Cyril Diamond, Tim Graham Photo Library via Getty Images and Henry Dallal

#when he was talking about doublet and said #'The Queen bred both the horse and rider!'#lmaooo 😂😂😂#queen elizabeth ii #prince philip #duke of edinburgh #princess anne #princess royal #queen's favourite horses #h&h #article

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tengomilpalabrasparati · 1 year

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Tal día como hoy 1 de junio ...

2009: Desaparece sobre el océano Atlántico el vuelo 447 de Air France, un Airbus A330 que cubría el trayecto entre Río de Janeiro (Brasil) y París (Francia). Fallecieron sus 228 ocupantes.

2001: Sucede una masacre real en Nepal, en una casa de los terrenos del Palacio Real de Narayanhity, durante una fiesta, en la que uno de los invitados disparó contra varios miembros de la familia real. Murieron 10 personas y varios resultaron heridos.

1998: Se funda el Banco Central Europeo en Bruselas, para definir y ejecutar la política monetaria de la UE.

1990: El presidente de Estados Unidos George Bush y el líder soviético Mijaíl Gorbachov firman un acuerdo para la reducción de armas estratégico START, en el que se prevé disminuya el arsenal nuclear un 30% y cese la producción de armas químicas.

1980: El millonario Ted Turner funda la cadena de televisión CNN, en Estados Unidos, siendo la primera cadena que emite noticias las 24 horas al día.

1962: Una multitud de etnia kurda reivindican su derecho a la independencia frente a la sede de la ONU en Nueva York, Estados Unidos.

1945: En el marco de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, Estados Unidos bombardea a la población civil de Osaka.

1943: Aviones alemanes derriban el vuelo 777 de BOAC sobre el golfo de Vizcaya, supuestamente como intento de asesinar al primer ministro Winston Churchill y en el que muere el actor Leslie Howard, entre los 17 fallecidos.

1831: El explorador británico James Clark Ross localiza el polo norte magnético.

69: Estalla una guerra civil en el imperio romano, en el conocido como 'año de los cuatro emperadores', enfrentándose por el trono los pretendientes Galba, Otón, Vitelio y Vespasiano. Ganando finalmente el último.

#Tal día como hoy 1 de junio ...#efemérides

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justphotosruipereira · 1 year

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É altamente improvável que quer Adolf Hitler, quer Winston Churchill, soubessem sequer da existência das Minas de Regoufe ou das Minas de Rio de Frades.

Mas a verdade é que estes dois complexos mineiros foram explorados, durante a II Grande Guerra Mundial, por ingleses e alemães. Inimigos nos campos de batalha da Europa, mas que pelos lados de Arouca viviam em paz absoluta.

A razão para esta convivência é muito simples e dá pelo nome de volfrâmio, um minério essencial ao esforço de guerra de nazis e aliados e que abundava em Portugal.

O Estado Novo, nos anos de brasa de Oliveira Salazar, viu ali uma oportunidade de ouro e não se importou que as duas partes em conflito viessem ao nosso país abastecer-se. Pelo preço certo, claro está.

No ano de 1941, foi constituída a principal empresa de exploração de W-Sn em Regoufe, a Companhia Portuguesa de Minas, que funcionou essencialmente com capitais e administração britânicos. Ficou conhecida como a «Companhia Inglesa» e a ela se deve importantes melhoramentos na região, como a abertura de estrada a partir da Ponte de Telhe, a instalação de eletricidade e telefone nas minas. Contudo, os menores investimentos efetuados pela «Companhia Inglesa» comparativamente à «Companhia Alemã» ficaram a dever-se ao facto de os ingleses explorarem o volfrâmio não por necessidade direta da matéria-prima mas para bloquearem o acesso dos alemães à mesma.

Este polo mineiro encontra-se bem demarcado espacialmente da aldeia agrícola tradicional homónima, da qual dista poucas centenas de metros. As ruínas monocromáticas de granito surpreendem pelo estado de abandono e destruição, conferindo a este local um estranho sossego, apenas entrecortado pelo vento e por um ou outro rebanho de cabras, que por vezes agitam as encostas e espantam o silêncio.

Fonte: https://www.e-konomista.pt/minas-de-regoufe-arouca/

Fonte: https://visitarouca.pt/atracoes/complexo-mineiro-de-regoufe/

#JustPhotosRuiPereira #minasregoufe #arouca #aroucageopark #portugal #drone

#justphotosruipereira #portugal #minas-de-regoufe-arouca #drone

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art-of-manliness · 1 month

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Odds & Ends: April 12, 2024

Why I Hope to Die at 75 by Ezekiel J. Emanuel. There’s been a lot of attention given in recent times to extending the lifespan. But Dr. Emmanuel, an oncologist and bioethicist, has a compelling, contrarian position: he hopes to die at 75. As he argues, a lot of people think they’ll be an exception to the rules of aging, that they’ll stay physically nimble and mentally sharp right up until death whisks them painlessly away. But as the capacity-robbing, burden-on-loved-ones-increasing toll of age eventually comes for all, Emanuel would rather go out before he falls apart. It’s not that he plans to kill himself at 75, but once he reaches that age, he’ll stop getting preventative screenings (no colonoscopies; no cardiac stress tests) and won’t accept treatments to extend his life. The Vintage Slub Polo from Flint and Tinder. One of my go-to brands for clothing just dropped a new line of polos and tees that are made in the USA from slub cotton. I picked up a navy blue polo. It’s super soft and feels like you’ve worn it for years, but the fabric has a nice thickness; it’s not thin and gauzy as some slub shirts are. Polos are a great item to have in your springtime wardrobe because they’re so dang versatile. You can dress them up or down. Make sure to check out our guide to polo shirts. The Last Lion trilogy by William Manchester. Quite possibly the best biography you’ll ever read. Epic in scale — about 3,000 pages split over three volumes — Manchester takes you on an enjoyable and edifying ride through Winston Churchill’s legendary life. You really feel like you’re there as Churchill comes of age, struggles to find his place as a politician, and leads his country through WWII. It’s hard to call any biography a page-turner, since you know what happens, but The Last Lion comes awfully close. Tragically, Manchester died before being able to finish the last volume, and another author stepped in to complete it. The third volume thus falls slightly short of the first two, but all are eminently worth reading. The Searchers. In this film directed by John Ford, John Wayne gives the most intense acting performance of his career as the dark and vengeful Ethan Edwards, a man who vows to kill the Comanche raiders who murdered his beloved sister-in-law and brother and took captive two of their daughters. Wayne does a fantastic job embodying a conflicted, complex man whose desire for revenge sets up a situation far more morally ambiguous than Cowboys vs. Indians. The film is beautifully shot. So many epic and sweeping shots of the desert landscape. And the pacing of the film is spot on. Doesn’t drag at all but also doesn’t feel rushed. Quote of the Week In those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth. —John Milton Help support independent publishing. Make a donation to The Art of Manliness! Thanks for the support! http://dlvr.it/T5Qx1m

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brookstonalmanac · 8 months

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Events 9.15 (before 1950)

#Events

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drwho-shipbracket · 11 months

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rarepairs: Vastra's Jenny/River, Doctor's Daughter Jenny/Martha, BOSS/Yates, Marco Polo/Susan, 7/Helen A, 6/Davros, 4/Tegan, C'rizz/Rassilon, Amy/Churchill

you said to just make shit up...!

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gonzalo-obes · 1 year

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IMAGENES Y DATOS INTERESANTES DEL DIA 1 DE JUNIO DE 2023

Día Mundial de las Madres y los Padres, Día Mundial de los Arrecifes, Día Mundial de la Leche, Año Internacional del Mijo y Año Internacional del Di��logo como Garantía de Paz.

San Íñigo, Nuestra Señora de la Luz y San Justino.

Tal día como hoy en el año 69: Estalla una guerra civil en el imperio romano, en el conocido como 'año de los cuatro emperadores', enfrentándose por el trono los pretendientes Galba, Otón, Vitelio y Vespasiano. Ganando finalmente el último.

El 1831: El explorador británico James Clark Ross localiza el polo norte magnético.

En 1943: Aviones alemanes derriban el vuelo 777 de BOAC sobre el golfo de Vizcaya, supuestamente como intento de asesinar al primer ministro Winston Churchill y en el que muere el actor Leslie Howard, entre los 17 fallecidos.

En 1945: En el marco de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, Estados Unidos bombardea a la población civil de Osaka.

En 1980: El millonario Ted Turner funda la cadena de televisión CNN, en Estados Unidos, siendo la primera cadena que emite noticias las 24 horas al día.

En 1990: El presidente de Estados Unidos George Bush y el líder soviético Mijaíl Gorbachov firman un acuerdo para la reducción de armas estratégico START, en el que se prevé disminuya el arsenal nuclear un 30% y cese la producción de armas químicas.

En 1998: Se funda el Banco Central Europeo en Bruselas, para definir y ejecutar la política monetaria de la UE.

En 2001: Sucede una masacre real en Nepal, en una casa de los terrenos del Palacio Real de Narayanhity, durante una fiesta, en la que uno de los invitados disparó contra varios miembros de la familia real. Murieron 10 personas y varios resultaron heridos.

En 2009: Desaparece sobre el océano Atlántico el vuelo 447 de Air France, un Airbus A330 que cubría el trayecto entre Río de Janeiro (Brasil) y París (Francia). Fallecieron sus 228 ocupantes.

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kanye--westeros · 1 year

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Top Albums of 2022

1. Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar (Favorite Track: Count Me Out)

2. The Forever Story - JID (Favorite Track: Sistanem)

3. MOTOMAMI - ROSALIA (Favorite Track: CANDY)

4. HERBERT - Ab-Soul (Favorite Track: Do Better)

5. Drill Music In Zion - Lupe Fiasco (Favorite Track: Kiosk)

6. Luv 4 Rent - Smino (Favorite Track: 90 Proof)

7. Candydrip - Lucky Daye (Favorite Track: Feels Like)

8. Renaissance - Beyonce (Favorite Track: Alien Superstar)

9. Sometimes, Forever - Soccer Mommy (Favorite Track: Fire In The Driveway)

10. Cometa - Nick Hakim (Favorite Track: Happen)

11. Lies About The War - Jacob Banks (Favorite Track: Aim For My Head)

12. Dawn FM - The Weeknd (Favorite Track: Sacrifice)

13. NO THANK YOU - Little Simz (Favorite Track: Silhouette)

14. Ramona Park Broke My Heart - Vince Staples (Favorite Track: When Sparks Fly)

15. It’s Almost Dry - Pusha T (Favorite Track: Dreamin Of The Past)

16. hugo - Loyle Carner (Favorite Track: Plastic)

17. Patient No. 9 - Ozzy Osbourne (Favorite Track: Nothing Feels Right)

18. Few Good Things - Saba (Favorite Track: Fearmonger)

19. Preacher’s Daughter - Ethel Cain (Favorite Track: Gibson Girl)

20. Farm To Table - Bartees Strange (Favorite Track: Escape This Circus)

21. COPINGMECHANISM - Willow (Favorite Track: hover like a GODDESS)

22. Red Balloon - Tank & The Bangas (Favorite Track: Why Try)

23. Fear Of Dawn - Jack White (Favorite Track: Taking Me Back)

24. SOS - SZA (Favorite Track: Good Days)

25. Blue Rev - Alvvays (Favorite Track: Easy On Your Own?)

26. Reason to Smile - Kojey Radical (Favorite Track: Born)

27. No Rest For The Wicked - Ransom (Favorite Track: Beautiful Gravesites)

28. Three Dimensions Deep - Amber Mark (Favorite Track: What It Is)

29. BLK VINTAGE: THE REPRISE - BLK ODYSSY (Favorite Track: Benny’s Got A Gun)

30. Melt Your Eyez See You Future - Denzel Curry (Favorite Track: Troubles)

31. Gemini Rights - Steve Lacy (Favorite Track: Mercury)

32. Louie - Kenny Beats (Favorite Track: Still)

33. Decide - Djo (Favorite Track: On and On)

34. Omnium Gatherum - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard (Favorite Track: Predator X)

35. AMERICAN GURL - Kilo Kish (Favorite Track: Death Fantasy)

36. The Car - Arctic Monkeys (Favorite Track: Body Paint)

37. Inside Problems - Andrew Bird (Favorite Track: Eight)

38. Changes - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard (Favorite Track: Change)

39. Pigments - Dawn Richard & Spencer Zahn (Favorite: Cerulean)

40. Luv N Chaos - Flwr Chyld (Favorite Track: Break Me Down / Here with You)

Honorable Mention:

Duality - Luna Li, Cocodrillo Turbo - Action Bronson, Fossora - Björk, SICK! - Earl Sweatshirt, Honestly, Nevermind - Drake, ALMETHA’S SON - SwaVay, Vaxis II: A Window of the Waking Mind – Coheed & Cambria, More Black Superheroes - Westside Boogie, Kings Disease III - Nas, God Doesn’t Make Mistakes - Conway The Machine, $oul $old $eperately - Freddie Gibbs, Hold The Girl - Rina Sawayama, Asha’s Awakening - Raveena, Killing Nothing - Boldy James & A Real Bad Man, CHAOS NOW* - Jean Dawson, Un Verano Sin Ti - Bad Bunny

Noteworthy Mixtapes/EPs:

Caprisongs - FKA Twigs, Slut Pop - Kim Petras, The Contract - Dr. Dre, TW20 50 - KayCyy, Texas Moon - Leon Bridges x Khruangbin, No Fear - lil røcket, Simple - IDK, Juno (Deluxe) - Remi Wolf, The Room - Flying Lotus, Guitar Songs - Billie Eilish, RUFFS - Kenny Mason, Wellness In Stereo - Young Odo, Chrome Bull - DUCKWRTH, No Longer In The Suburbs - Dylan Sinclair

Great Songs On Decent/Bad Albums:

“Doja” by $NOT x A$AP Rocky

“Changed On Me” by Fivio Foreign x Vory x Polo G

“Death & Taxes” by Tanna Leone

“Churchill Downs” by Jack Harlow x Drake

“Hold You Up” by KayCyy

“Reputation” by Post Malone

“Pop Music” by Perfume Genius

“In My Lifetime” by Logic x Action Bronson

“Do It Again” by Cochise

“Arson” by j-hope

“Her” by Megan Thee Stallion

“Risk Of Being Hurt” by Sigrid

“Party All The Time” by DJ Khaled x Quavo x Takeoff

“Still C U” by Jessie Reyez

“Killa Cali “ by YG

“HOTEL LOBBY” by Quavo & Takeoff

“Conflicted” by Snoop Dogg x Nas “Willing To Trust” by Kid Cudi x Ty Dolla $ign

“Crazy Kid” by Maya Hawke x Will Graefe

“LIGHTWERK” by The Cool Kids x JID x 6LACK

“WAIT FOR U” by Future x Tems x Drake

“Blicky” by Octavian

“Make You Mine” by GIVĒON

“MAN ON THE MOON” by BROCKHAMPTON

#2022 Music #Top List #Music

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broomclosetbrew · 2 years

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Smoking an Asylum Straight Jacket and checking out a Binney's Beverage Depot single barrel pick of Jeppson's Bourbon. This is Tennessee Whiskey barrel F4 (Dickel?) at a respectable 126.7 proof. Lots of caramel, followed by an interesting bitter dark chocolate flavor, and backing spice. This is an interesting barrel selection that actually pairs really well with the cigar. .... So I made patches for the office. These are 3" and are printed vs embroidered. Great for hats and shirts. When I'm on set people always want one of my hats, shirts, or polos but we just don't have any to sell or give since we pay for them out of pocket and do really limited runs. We'll now I've got these so people can make their own if they'd like. Best part is they are only $1 each. I've gotta say I didn't have high hopes for how they were going to look but I'm really impressed with how they came out. .... "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." ~ Winston Churchill .... #cigar #CigarLover #CigarAfficionado #cigarphoto #cigarsnob #cigarlife #cigarsmoke #asylumcigars #sailorandsticks #cigarsandwhiskey #TapThatAsh #whiskey #bourbon #jeppsonsbourbon #whiskeylife #WhiskeyLover #whiskeyphoto #WhiskeyNeat #WhiskeyAfficionado #whiskeygram #quote #quotestagram (at Coastal San Pedro) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgVwWa0rAIZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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timmurleyart · 2 years

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The great race. 🐎🐴💨

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years

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I encourage prime ministers to unburden themselves or tell me what is going on or if they have any problems, and sometimes I can help in some way as well. They know I can be impartial and it is rather nice to feel one is a sponge. Occasionally one can put one's point of view and perhaps they have not seen it from that angle.

- HM Queen Elizabeth II

The Queen has not had the same relationship with her fourteen Prime Ministers who are Sir Winston Churchill, Sir Anthony Eden, Harold Macmillan, Sir Alec Douglas-Home, Harold Wilson, Sir Edward Heath, James Callaghan, Margaret Thatcher, John Major, Tony Blair, Gordon Brown and David Cameron, Theresa May, and Boris Johnson.

William Churchill was the first one. Churchill was a formidable presence for the young Queen. Churchill told the Queen he could advise her from a lifetime of experience.

Decades later, when asked which PM she enjoyed meeting with the most, the sovereign replied, “Winston of course, because it was always such fun.” One of the household staff confirmed this, reporting that “I could not hear what they talked about, but it was, more often than not, punctuated with peals of laughter, and Winston generally came out wiping his eyes.” Their favorite topic of conversation was a shared passion for horses, racing, and polo.

The first Prime Minister younger than the Queen was John Major. Tony Blair and David Cameron were not even born when she acceded to the throne. Cameron is also the youngest of the Queen's Prime Ministers.

#queen elizabeth II #elizabeth II #queen #monarchy #quote #prime minister #winston churchill #audience #sovereign #politics #britain

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tengomilpalabrasparati · 2 years

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Tal día como hoy 1 de junio ...

2009: Desaparece sobre el océano Atlántico el vuelo 447 de Air France, un Airbus A330 que cubría el trayecto entre Río de Janeiro (Brasil) y París (Francia). Fallecieron sus 228 ocupantes.

1998: Se funda el Banco Central Europeo en Bruselas, para definir y ejecutar la política monetaria de la UE.

1980: El millonario Ted Turner funda la cadena de televisión CNN, en Estados Unidos, siendo la primera cadena que emite noticias las 24 horas al día.

1962: Una multitud de etnia kurda reivindican su derecho a la independencia frente a la sede de la ONU en Nueva York, Estados Unidos.

1945: En el marco de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, Estados Unidos bombardea a la población civil de Osaka.

1831: El explorador británico James Clark Ross localiza el polo norte magnético.

(En el marco de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, Estados Unidos bombardea a la población civil de Osaka)

#Tal día como hoy 1 de junio ...#efemérides

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

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Why I’m Leaving Mumford & Sons

I loved those first tours. Bouncing off a sweaty stage in an Edinburgh catacomb we then had to get to a gig in Camden by lunch the next day. We couldn’t fit all four of us and Ted’s double-bass into the VW Polo. I think it was Ben who drew the short-straw and had to follow by train with his keyboard. I remember blitzing it down the M6 through the night, the lads asleep beside me. We made it but my voice sadly didn’t, completely shot by exhaustion, I had to mime my harmonies. Being in Mumford & Sons was exhilarating.

Every gig was its own adventure. Every gig its own story. Be it odysseys through the Scottish Islands, or soapbox shows in Soho. Where would we sleep that night? Hostels in Fort William, pub floors in Ipswich, even the Travelodge in Carlisle maintains a sort of charm in my mind. We saw the country and then, as things miraculously grew, the world. All the while doing what we loved. Music. And not just any music. These songs meant something. They felt important to me. Songs with the message of hope and love. I was surrounded by three supremely talented song-writers and Marcus, our singer with a one-in-a-million voice. A voice that can compel both a field of 80,000 and the intimacy of a front room. Fast-forward ten years and we were playing those same songs every night in arenas, flying first-class, staying in luxury hotels and being paid handsomely to do so. I was a lucky boy.

On stage, to my left Ted, a roaring bear, with his double-bass flying high above him. To my right Ben, with his unparalleled passion for music, pounding at the keys. And Marcus leading us with all the might of a hurricane or all the tenderness of a breeze, depending on what the song demanded. What a blessing it was to be so close to such talent as theirs. It will be with immense pride that I look back at my time with Mumford & Sons. A legacy of songs that I believe will stand the test of ages. What we’ve achieved together has vastly exceeded the wildest fantasies of this shitkicker from Mortlake.

Who in their right mind would willingly walk away from this?

It turns out I would. And as you might imagine it’s been no easy decision.

At the beginning of March I tweeted to American journalist Andy Ngo, author of the New York Times Bestseller, Unmasked. “Congratulations @MrAndyNgo. Finally had the time to read your important book. You’re a brave man”. Posting about books had been a theme of my social-media throughout the pandemic. I believed this tweet to be as innocuous as the others. How wrong I turned out to be.

Over the course of 24 hours it was trending with tens of thousands of angry retweets and comments. I failed to foresee that my commenting on a book critical of the Far-Left could be interpreted as approval of the equally abhorrent Far-Right.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Thirteen members of my family were murdered in the concentration camps of the Holocaust. My Grandma, unlike her cousins, aunts and uncles, survived. She and I were close. My family knows the evils of fascism painfully well. To say the least. To call me “fascist” was ludicrous beyond belief.

I’ve had plenty of abuse over the years. I’m a banjo player after all. But this was another level. And, owing to our association, my friends, my bandmates, were getting it too. It took me more than a moment to understand how distressing this was for them.

Despite being four individuals we were, in the eyes of the public, a unity. Furthermore it’s our singer’s name on the tin. That name was being dragged through some pretty ugly accusations, as a result of my tweet. The distress brought to them and their families that weekend I regret very much. I remain sincerely sorry for that. Unintentionally, I had pulled them into a divisive and totemic issue.

Emotions were high. Despite pressure to nix me they invited me to continue with the band. That took courage, particularly in the age of so called “cancel culture”. I made an apology and agreed to take a temporary step back.

Rather predictably another viral mob came after me, this time for the sin of apologising. Then followed libellous articles calling me “right-wing” and such. Though there’s nothing wrong with being conservative, when forced to politically label myself I flutter between “centrist”, “liberal” or the more honest “bit this, bit that”. Being labeled erroneously just goes to show how binary political discourse has become. I had criticised the “Left”, so I must be the “Right”, or so their logic goes.

Why did I apologise?

“Rub your eyes and purify your heart — and prize above all else in the world those who love you and who wish you well.” — Aleksander Solzhenitsyn once wrote. In the mania of the moment I was desperate to protect my bandmates. The hornets’ nest that I had unwittingly hit had unleashed a black-hearted swarm on them and their families. I didn’t want them to suffer for my actions, they were my priority.

Secondly, I was sincerely open to the fact that maybe I did not know something about the author or his work. “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak,” Churchill once said, “courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen”. And so I listened.

I have spent much time reflecting, reading and listening. The truth is that my commenting on a book that documents the extreme Far-Left and their activities is in no way an endorsement of the equally repugnant Far-Right. The truth is that reporting on extremism at the great risk of endangering oneself is unquestionably brave. I also feel that my previous apology in a small way participates in the lie that such extremism does not exist, or worse, is a force for good.

So why leave the band?

On the eve of his leaving to the West, Solzhenitsyn published an essay titled ‘Live Not By Lies’. I have read it many times now since the incident at the start of March. It still profoundly stirs me.

“And he who is not sufficiently courageous to defend his soul — don’t let him be proud of his ‘progressive’ views, and don’t let him boast that he is an academician or a people’s artist, a distinguished figure or a general. Let him say to himself: I am a part of the herd and a coward. It’s all the same to me as long as I’m fed and kept warm.”

For me to speak about what I’ve learnt to be such a controversial issue will inevitably bring my bandmates more trouble. My love, loyalty and accountability to them cannot permit that. I could remain and continue to self-censor but it will erode my sense of integrity. Gnaw my conscience. I’ve already felt that beginning.

The only way forward for me is to leave the band. I hope in distancing myself from them I am able to speak my mind without them suffering the consequences. I leave with love in my heart and I wish those three boys nothing but the best. I have no doubt that their stars will shine long into the future. I will continue my work with Hong Kong Link Up and I look forward to new creative projects as well as speaking and writing on a variety of issues, challenging as they may be.

Winston Marshall

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brookstonalmanac · 2 years

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Events 9.15

994 – Major Fatimid victory over the Byzantine Empire at the Battle of the Orontes. 1440 – Gilles de Rais, one of the earliest known serial killers, is taken into custody upon an accusation brought against him by Jean de Malestroit, Bishop of Nantes. 1530 – Appearance of the miraculous portrait of Saint Dominic in Soriano in Soriano Calabro, Calabria, Italy; commemorated as a feast day by the Roman Catholic Church 1644–1912. 1556 – Departing from Vlissingen, ex-Holy Roman Emperor Charles V returns to Spain. 1762 – Seven Years' War: Battle of Signal Hill. 1776 – American Revolutionary War: British forces land at Kip's Bay during the New York Campaign. 1789 – The United States "Department of Foreign Affairs", established by law in July, is renamed the Department of State and given a variety of domestic duties. 1794 – French Revolutionary Wars: Arthur Wellesley (later Duke of Wellington) sees his first combat at the Battle of Boxtel during the Flanders Campaign. 1795 – Britain seizes the Dutch Cape Colony in southern Africa to prevent its use by the Batavian Republic. 1812 – The Grande Armée under Napoleon reaches the Kremlin in Moscow. 1812 – War of 1812: A second supply train sent to relieve Fort Harrison is ambushed in the Attack at the Narrows. 1816 – HMS Whiting runs aground on the Doom Bar. 1820 – Constitutionalist revolution in Lisbon, Portugal. 1821 – The Captaincy General of Guatemala declares independence from Spain. 1830 – The Liverpool to Manchester railway line opens; British MP William Huskisson becomes the first widely reported railway passenger fatality when he is struck and killed by the locomotive Rocket. 1835 – HMS Beagle, with Charles Darwin aboard, reaches the Galápagos Islands. The ship lands at Chatham or San Cristobal, the easternmost of the archipelago. 1862 – American Civil War: Confederate forces capture Harpers Ferry, Virginia (present-day Harpers Ferry, West Virginia). 1873 – Franco-Prussian War: The last Imperial German Army troops leave France upon completion of payment of indemnity. 1894 – First Sino-Japanese War: Japan defeats Qing dynasty China in the Battle of Pyongyang. 1915 – The Empire Picture Theatre (now The New Empire Cinema), the oldest running cinema in mainland Australia, opens in Bowral, New South Wales. 1915 – New Culture Movement: Chen Duxiu establishes the New Youth magazine in Shanghai. 1916 – World War I: Tanks are used for the first time in battle, at the Battle of the Somme. 1918 – World War I: Allied troops break through the Bulgarian defenses on the Macedonian front. 1935 – The Nuremberg Laws deprive German Jews of citizenship. 1935 – Nazi Germany adopts a new national flag bearing the swastika. 1940 – World War II: The climax of the Battle of Britain, when the Luftwaffe launches its largest and most concentrated attack of the entire campaign. 1942 – World War II: U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Wasp is sunk by Japanese torpedoes at Guadalcanal. 1944 – Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill meet in Quebec as part of the Octagon Conference to discuss strategy. 1944 – Battle of Peleliu begins as the United States Marine Corps' 1st Marine Division and the United States Army's 81st Infantry Division hit White and Orange beaches under heavy fire from Japanese infantry and artillery. 1945 – A hurricane strikes southern Florida and the Bahamas, destroying 366 airplanes and 25 blimps at Naval Air Station Richmond. 1947 – Typhoon Kathleen hit the Kantō region in Japan killing 1,077. 1948 – The Indian Army captures the towns of Jalna, Latur, Mominabad, Surriapet and Narkatpalli as part of Operation Polo. 1948 – The F-86 Sabre sets the world aircraft speed record at 671 miles per hour (1,080 km/h). 1950 – Korean War: The U.S. X Corps lands at Inchon. 1952 – The United Nations cedes Eritrea to Ethiopia. 1954 – Marilyn Monroe's iconic skirt scene is shot during filming for The Seven Year Itch. 1958 – A Central Railroad of New Jersey commuter train runs through an open drawbridge at the Newark Bay, killing 48. 1959 – Nikita Khrushchev becomes the first Soviet leader to visit the United States. 1962 – The Soviet ship Poltava heads toward Cuba, one of the events that sets into motion the Cuban Missile Crisis. 1963 – Baptist Church bombing: Four children killed in the bombing of an African-American church in Birmingham, Alabama, United States. 1967 – U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson, responding to a sniper attack at the University of Texas at Austin, writes a letter to Congress urging the enactment of gun control legislation. 1968 – The Soviet Zond 5 spaceship is launched, becoming the first spacecraft to fly around the Moon and re-enter the Earth's atmosphere. 1971 – The first Greenpeace ship departs from Vancouver to protest against the upcoming Cannikin nuclear weapon test in Alaska. 1972 – A Scandinavian Airlines System domestic flight from Gothenburg to Stockholm is hijacked and flown to Malmö Bulltofta Airport. 1974 – Air Vietnam Flight 706 is hijacked, then crashes while attempting to land with 75 on board. 1975 – The French department of "Corse" (the entire island of Corsica) is divided into two: Haute-Corse (Upper Corsica) and Corse-du-Sud (Southern Corsica). 1978 – Muhammad Ali outpoints Leon Spinks in a rematch to become the first boxer to win the world heavyweight title three times at the Superdome in New Orleans. 1981 – The Senate Judiciary Committee unanimously approves Sandra Day O'Connor to become the first female justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. 1981 – The John Bull becomes the oldest operable steam locomotive in the world when the Smithsonian Institution operates it under its own power outside Washington, D.C. 1983 – Israeli premier Menachem Begin resigns. 1995 – Malaysia Airlines Flight 2133 crashes at Tawau Airport in Malaysia, killing 34. 2000 – The Summer Olympics, officially known as the games of the XXVII Olympiad, are opened in Sydney, Australia. 2001 – During a CART race at the Lausitzring in Germany, former Formula One driver Alex Zanardi suffers a heavy accident resulting in him losing both his legs. 2004 – National Hockey League commissioner Gary Bettman announces lockout of the players' union and cessation of operations by the NHL head office. 2008 – Lehman Brothers files for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, the largest bankruptcy filing in U.S. history. 2011 – Four miners are killed in the Gleision Colliery mining accident in the Swansea Valley, Wales, UK. 2017 – The Parsons Green bombing takes place in London. 2020 – Signing of the Bahrain–Israel normalization agreement occurs in Washington, D.C., normalizing relations between Israel and two Arab nations, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain.

#Events

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