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Dunblane massacre
13 March 1996
Description
The Dunblane massacre took place at Dunblane Primary School near Stirling, Scotland, on 13 March 1996, when Thomas Hamilton shot 16 children and one teacher dead and injured 15 others, before killing himself. It remains the deadliest mass shooting in British history.
Deaths: 18 (including the perpetrator)
Date: 13 March 1996
Perpetrator: Thomas Hamilton
Location: Dunblane
Total number of deaths: 18 (including the perpetrator)
Attack types: School shooting, Mass murder, Murder–suicide
One and one is two,
Two and two are four,
Four and four are eight,
Eight and eight are sixteen,
Sixteen and two.
John Donne, Anne Donne, undone
Think of a number, think of a number,
Five,
Think of a number, think of a number,
Six.
Come with me, ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross,
See a fine lady on a white horse.
Does everyone love me like you mother?
Does everyone love me like you father?
Well Wilf, I have a question.
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
When I got up this morning
I felt powerful, full of gods power.
This morning, for a few minutes
I thought I was god.
I wanted at last, to be recognised for what I am.
My life is barren.
Before I set off this morning
To do god's work
I sat in the chair
One, two, three, four
Looking at each one
One, two, three, four.
I stroked, and caressed each one.
Like my woman.
And yet they were hard and strong, virile, cold
The arbiter of death.
Sometimes, at such times, he visits me.
The man for whom I long.
My guilt, will not altogether fit.
Yet, you who scorned me,
Have invited me,
Into each of your family homes.
I will always be present,
At Anniversaries, at Christmas.
At times meant to be enjoyed,
I shall be there, you're unwelcome guest.
Happy Days.
There were seventeen green bottles, hanging on the wall,
Seventeen green bottles, hanging on the wall,
And if seventeen green bottles, should accidentally fall.
Then they'll be no green bottles, hanging on the wall.
Thomas please, I grow old, I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled
In the room, the women, men, children, grandfathers, grandmothers
Nieces and nephews, cousins and brothers, brothers and sisters
Uncles, and aunts, friends and relations, come and go
Talking, always talking, of those that are gone
All of you do not forget us
Thomas would you, with the children please
Together then
I remember
I remember
The house where I was born
Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly
Blow the wind southerly, my bonny to see
Their energy was such
They were always displacing themselves
Fractured, yet healing, thereby to be the stronger
Laughing with a happy laugh
This noise, their noise, with life abounds
Such laughing
If only we'd known
Such tears
If only we'd known
We would have counted each of your tears
You are our little people
Full growed at five and six
Full growed ye who cared for them
Yes Mary, ah Mary's got a joke. Come on now, let's all listen. Yes Mary, yes, listen
What did Mary Shelley say to Frankenstein
Go on
Oh, I love you to bits
Very good Mary, I'll bet you got that off your mum and dad. I don't think it's your own joke is it. Perhaps it is.
Come on now children, altogether
This old man, he played one
He played nic nak, on my drum
With a nic nak paddy wak, give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home
I checked my watch, it's almost time
God keep the barrel straight
Although tensed, although anguished within himself
He gave a nervous laugh
Atishoo, atishoo, all fall down
That morning, all the children had minded their P's and Q's
That morning, all had answered the register
Variously happy, and in piping voices
The Scottish pipers lament
The lament for young heroes
Old before their time
Facing the fear of all of us
Facing their fear together
Our teacher, our very own
And he, who took our lives
We are children, who forgive easily
Mother, and Father, your task is harder
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning, we shall remember them
There is but one child left
What mother and father, will claim this child
What sister, claim this brother
Where now the lover
Those of you, who pour contempt
Hell and damnation, upon my head
Here the slain, select one
That he become me
If you were the only girl in the world
And I was the only boy
It is afternoon, it is time again to take the toll, and yet this classroom is empty, not alas for the discerning eye. Therein happiness, therein love, therein hope, therein our lives.
Settle down then children, answer the register
Robert, Robert Burns
Not present. No one seen him
Mary, Mary Shelley
Not present
Sylvia Plath
Gone away
William Shakespeare
Not present
Leonardo, has no one seen Leonardo
Michael Angelo
Not present
Elizabeth I Regina
Not present
Has anyone seen her sister Mary, Mary Queen of Scots
No, not present
What about David. Anyone seen David, David Livingstone
No, not present
Mary, Mary Curie
Albert, Albert Einstein
Albert, Albert Schweitzer
Not present
Where are they all
What of Christ, and Buddha, Mohammed
Not present. Not present. Not present
What of George, the bakers boy
Not present
And Lucy in the sky
Gone away
What of Nicola, and Matthew world travellers
What of Romany. What of Tom, Dick, and Harry
Gone away, all gone away
But what of Peg, and sister Meg
Bess, and Tess, and Rodney too
Gone away, all gone away
And what of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John
Bless the bed that they lay on
One at their head, one at their feet
Two at their hearts
Their precious souls to keep
My children, dost thou know, that thy creator weeps today
In the beginning, is my end
And in the end, my beginning
When I died, did you hold me
As a child holds its doll mother
When I died, did you hold me
As you held your mother, father
What is thy name
My name, my name is death
My gift to plain Dunblane
Put not your curse upon me
If you cherish daughter life
You must love also her brother death
If I am called, if I am summoned
Then I have to comply
Understand I have to come
I came to do God's work
I also wept bitter tears
I have wept more tears than you
Bereaved, and beauteous souls
I am the teacher, these my children
Tell me brother death art thou evil
No my child, not so
I am at one with the creator
We are all of one blood, she and I
I am the great destroyer
She the great creator
Your children, are our children
When you were happy, we were happy
When you were sad, we were sad
Listen, for you too are our children.
We are but one
Everything is one
Know that the creative energy from which all spring, is indestructible
It is immortal
Your children's sacrifice is not in vain
Nor you my daughter, and you my son.
All that issue forth from me
They must return to me.
No life without death
No death without life.
The unchained cycle of change continues
They are not lost
You who listen
Or read these words are me
I am your mirror
They are not lost.
Dave D 1996
MOTHER AND BABY 1970