{"id":6349,"date":"2024-01-09T22:59:16","date_gmt":"2024-01-09T22:59:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/?p=6349"},"modified":"2024-01-09T23:01:59","modified_gmt":"2024-01-09T23:01:59","slug":"word-of-the-day-wood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/2024\/01\/09\/word-of-the-day-wood\/","title":{"rendered":"Word of the Day: Wood"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>Today\u2019s word of the day, thanks, partly, to the Old English Wordhord (<a href=\"https:\/\/oldenglishwordhord.com\/2024\/01\/08\/wodheortness\/\">https:\/\/oldenglishwordhord.com\/2024\/01\/08\/wodheortness\/<\/a>), is <em>wood<\/em>. But I\u2019m not thinking of the wood that you are probably thinking of. This is an adjective that is described by Dictionary.com as \u201carchaic,\u201d meaning that contemporary speakers of English probably don\u2019t use the word this way. This <em>wood<\/em> means \u201cwild, as with rage or excitement; mad; insane\u201d (<a href=\"https:\/\/www.dictionary.com\/browse\/wood\">https:\/\/www.dictionary.com\/browse\/wood<\/a>). The website provides some etymology: \u201cFirst recorded before 900; Middle English <em>wod(e)<\/em>, <em>wodde<\/em>, Old English <em>w\u014dd<\/em>; cognate with Old Norse <em>\u014dthr<\/em> \u2018mad, frantic\u2019; akin to German <em>Wut<\/em> \u2018rage,\u2019 Old English <em>w\u014dth<\/em> \u2018song\u2019 (because it was due to inspired madness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Etymonline echoes the above: \u201c\u2019violently insane\u2019 (now obsolete), from Old English <em>wod<\/em> \u2018mad, frenzied, from Proto-Germanic *<em>woda-<\/em> (source also of Gothic <em>wo\u00fes<\/em> \u2018possessed, mad,\u2019 Old High German <em>wuot<\/em> \u2018mad, madness,\u2019 German <em>wut<\/em>\u2018rage, fury\u2019), from PIE <em>*wet<\/em>&#8211; \u2018to blow; inspire, spiritually arouse;\u2019 source of Latin <em>vates<\/em> \u2018seer, poet,\u2019 Old Irish <em>faith<\/em> \u2018poet;\u2019 \u2018with a common element of mental excitement\u2019 [Buck]. Compare Old English <em>wo\u00fe<\/em> \u2018sound, melody, song,\u2019 Old Norse <em>o\u00f0r<\/em> \u2018poetry,\u2019 and the god-name <a href=\"https:\/\/www.etymonline.com\/word\/Odin\">Odin<\/a>.\u201d The connection between madness and songs or poetry reminds one of Shakespeare\u2019s <em>A Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream<\/em>: The lunatic, the lover and the poet \/ Are of imagination all compact (5.1.7-8).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The word on the Old English Wordhord website is actually <em>wodheortness<\/em>, which means \u201cmadness\u201d or \u201cInsanity.\u201d We actually have an example of this word, in the form <em>wedenheortness<\/em>, in the Venerable Bede\u2019s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Book 2, chapter 5. Bede writes of King Eadbald, \u201che was troubled with frequent fits of madness\u201d (<a href=\"http:\/\/www.heroofcamelot.com\/docs\/Bede-Ecclesiastical-History.pdf\">http:\/\/www.heroofcamelot.com\/docs\/Bede-Ecclesiastical-History.pdf<\/a>). We can find the word in Middle English in Chaucer\u2019s Troilus and Criseyde: \u201cHe sodeynly mot falle in-to wodnesse\u201d (<a href=\"https:\/\/www.gutenberg.org\/files\/257\/257-h\/257-h.htm\">https:\/\/www.gutenberg.org\/files\/257\/257-h\/257-h.htm<\/a>; Book 3, line 794).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>On this day in 1916, the last of the British troops left the Gallipoli peninsula, ending one of the most disastrous escapades of World War I.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Battle of Gallipoli, or the Battle of the Dardanelles, began in February of 1915. The Entente Powers (England, France, Russia) wanted to weaken the Ottoman Empire by occupying the Dardanelles Straights from which they could bombard the Turkish capital. When the attempt to force the Straights failed, the British decided to invade Turkey with what at the time was the largest amphibious invasion in history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Unfortunately for the British, the invasion was a disaster, even though they stayed for eight months. By the time the Brits left, both sides of the battle had experienced somewhere near 250,000 casualties: \u201cOfficially, the dead included 2,700 New Zealanders, 8,700 Australians, 9,700 French, 21,000 British and 80,000 Turkish soldiers. So by the time this ten-month First World War campaign ended, about 120,000 men had died. And the wounded numbered around 260,000. The Australian Department of Veterans&#8217; Affairs put the figures higher, recording nearly half a million casualties\u201d (<a href=\"https:\/\/www.onthisday.com\/articles\/gallipoli-guts-glory-and-defeat\">https:\/\/www.onthisday.com\/articles\/gallipoli-guts-glory-and-defeat<\/a>).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>One political leader who lost his position because of the Battle of Gallipoli was Winston Churchill. Yes, that Winston Churchill. He was the First Lord of the Admiralty and had pushed the Gallipoli campaign. Many blamed the defeat on him. He, on the other hand, blamed a lack of support for the plan. The failure was also especially painful for the members of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC), who felt that they were used as cannon fodder by the British command. Some historians assert that the failure of the Gallipoli campaign gave the Australians and the New Zealanders a sense of their own, separate identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Years later, in 1971, Eric Bogle (born in Scotland but immigrated to Australia) wrote a folk song about Gallipoli that became famous, called \u201cAnd the Band Played Waltzing Matilda.\u201d The song has some historical inaccuracies and even an anachronism, but it reflects the attitude of many towards Gallipoli, and really to all wars. In fact, Bogle claimed that it was really more about Vietnam than about WWI. The song originally had eight verses, but Bogle later cut it down to five, and at the end it incorporates a couple of lines from the 1895 Australian folksong \u201cWaltzing Matilda,\u201d by Banjo Paterson.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Here are a <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=ajPSmnZ2PRY\">link<\/a> to the song on YouTube and the lyrics:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack<br>And I lived the free life of the rover<br>From the Murray&#8217;s green basin to the dusty outback<br>Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over<br>Then in 1915, my country said &#8220;son<br>It&#8217;s time you stopped rambling, there&#8217;s work to be done&#8221;<br>So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun<br>And they marched me away to the war<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And the band played Waltzing Matilda<br>As the ship pulled away from the quay<br>And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears<br>We sailed off for Gallipoli<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And how well I remember that terrible day<br>How our blood stained the sand and the water<br>And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay<br>We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter<br>Johnny Turk, he was waiting, he&#8217;d primed himself well<br>He showered us with bullets and he rained us with shell<br>And in five minutes flat, he&#8217;d blown us all to hell<br>Nearly blew us right back to Australia<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But the band played Waltzing Matilda<br>When we stopped to bury our slain<br>We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs<br>Then we started all over again<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And those that were left, well we tried to survive<br>In that mad world of blood, death and fire<br>And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive<br>Though around me the corpses piled higher<br>Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head<br>And when I woke up in me hospital bed<br>And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead<br>Never knew there was worse things than dyin&#8217;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For I&#8217;ll go no more waltzing Matilda<br>All around the green bush far and free<br>To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs<br>No more waltzing Matilda for me<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed<br>And they shipped us back home to Australia<br>The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane<br>Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla<br>And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay<br>I looked at the place where me legs used to be<br>And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me<br>To grieve, to mourn, and to pity<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But the band played Waltzing Matilda<br>As they carried us down the gangway<br>But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Then they turned all their faces away<br>And so now every April, I sit on me porch<br>And I watch the parades pass before me<br>And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march<br>Reviving old dreams of past glories<br>And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore<br>They&#8217;re tired old heroes from a forgotten war<br>And the young people ask, &#8220;what are they marching for?&#8221;<br>And I ask myself the same question<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But the band plays Waltzing Matilda<br>And the old men still answer the call<br>But as year follows year, more old men disappear<br>Someday no one will march there at all<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda<br>Who&#8217;ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?<br>And their ghosts may be heard<br>As they march by that billabong<br>Who&#8217;ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>(Source: LyricFind; Songwriters: Eric Bogle; The Band Played Waltzing Matilda lyrics \u00a9 Music Sales Corporation, O\/B\/O DistroKid).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To me, the \u201cleaders\u201d who led the world into World War I and campaigns like Gallipoli, the Somme, and others, must all have been wood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The image today is a photo of soldiers resting during the assault at Suvla Plain on August 21, 1915.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Today\u2019s word of the day, thanks, partly, to the Old English Wordhord (https:\/\/oldenglishwordhord.com\/2024\/01\/08\/wodheortness\/), is wood. But I\u2019m not thinking of the wood that you are probably thinking of. This is [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":6350,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[52],"tags":[238,395,482,483,284,174],"class_list":["post-6349","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-word-of-the-day","tag-dictionary","tag-etymology","tag-folksong","tag-gallipoli","tag-linguistics","tag-war","clearfix"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6349","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6349"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6349\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6352,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6349\/revisions\/6352"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6350"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6349"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6349"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.freedomshillprimer.com\/institute\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6349"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}