

For five years many nations have been marking the 100th anniversary of the years of WWI with postage stamps. We’ve forgotten most of those issues, just as that war is a thing of history to us—with no personal meaning. Today’s mass murders trouble us greatly, as they should, and yet WWI accounted for some 15 to 19 million military and civilian deaths—averaging more than 10,000 a day. And like all war, it didn’t have to be.
Those WWI commemorative stamps generally feature photographs of military personnel and monuments, but a few affected me.
In 2017 Great Britain issued a set of six WWI commemoratives. The four above spoke to me. The shattered red poppy told of peace shattered by war. Private Lemuel Thomas’ life-saving Bible was for me an ironic image. How many millions on both sides of this tragic conflict professed true faith in the Bible? The tombstones in Belgium, at stamp size anonymous, whisper wasted lives. And Isaac Rosenberg’s poetic words from Dead Man’s Dump of 1918, “Earth has waited for them, All the time of their growth,” testify to the human tragedy. (Rosenberg, an Orthodox Jew from Gloucestershire, was killed in 1918 after returning from a night patrol near Fampoux, France, most likely be a sniper.)

This year Slovenia issued a visually haunting interpretation of that endless field of tombstones. The ethereal shape created by the varying light and dark crosses are a mist of millions of lives lost…most now forgotten.
Also this year Poland, whose designers are known for graphic directness, presents us with the choice that faced nations 100 years ago: flowers or explosives. That choice continues to face us. Too often the decision is disastrous.

Ireland’s literary approach to Armistice Day is twice strong. Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae’s 1915 poem is familiar to many of us, and is always worth a reflective read:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

Finally, from Thomas Kettle’s 1916 poem To My Daughter Betty, the Gift of God:
Died not for flag, nor King,
Nor Emperor, But for a dream,
Born in a herdsman’s shed, And
for the secret Scripture of the poor.
Kettle, a Member of Parliament, joined the Irish Volunteers in 1913 and died in 1916 on the Western Front.
Consider these stamps. Click the links above and read these poems in their entirety. Tell me what you think…and feel.


Stamp collecting can be whatever you want it to be. There’s discovery and beauty, humanity and history—pretty much everything. Share the journey with me and stay in touch.






A pressman made a mistake in 1918, hence the

I was bewitched by the
images of two women recently—one real, one imagined: Sarah Bernhardt and the costumed woman of Provence. The alluring beauty of two stamps!
(The fact that the name “Mazelin,” 
October 31 is Halloween in the U.S.— a day for children to dress in costumes, wear masks, and go door-to-door asking for sweet treats. Pumpkins are everywhere, and homes are decorated with witches, skeletons, spider webs and orange lights.
Halloween is also a time for masks—a time to make believe you’re someone else. For me, some of the most fascinating, intricate and scary masks are those of Slovenia, featured on the stamps shown here from 1997 (above),
2000 (left) and 2002 (below). These masks, however, are from the annual 
Masks and costumes are not the only similarity between Halloween and the Slovenia Carnivals. In Slovenia, children in masks also go door to door asking for treats!
Looking through an accumulation of collection material recently, I came across a very similar, but much older, use of a ‘real’ stamp (the 2-cent “Empire State Express” issue from the Pan-American Exposition series) to pay for the mailed reply to another solicitation. Interestingly, a transportation stamp was also provided to cover mailing costs in the very early 1900s.

In 1874 the
might be the first items in their collection. (For more about philately and the history of printing, contact the 