I was in the sickbay at 1 Intelligence Unit, Kimberley, when I heard from my mates, who came to the window to tell me that John Lennon had been assassinated outside his New York City apartment on December 8, 1980. Having, on an earlier posting, shown some of the pictures I did, using felt-tip pens while in the sickbay with shingles which closed my one eye, here are a few more from that series, including several done from my head dealing with Lennon's death.
The figure falls, bent and twisted, to the ground, the red of his jumper possibly also the red of his blood. Behind, ephemeral shapes emerge as millions of Lennon fans around the globe went into mourning.
This and two subsequent abstract drawings seem to deal with the spiritual fall-out of the Lennon assassination. Here I see something of the psychedelic lyrics and music which were a key part of the great man's oeuvre.
Again, there is a sense of a spirit floating free here. The fan shape may just have been inspired by the fan in the sickbay.
This seems again to speak of souls in flight. Flowers were a key hippie symbol, and of course speak of love, which, as Lennon once said, is all we need. Remember at the time we had been told by our military mind masters that songs like Lennon's Imagine played right into the hands of the communists who were out to destroy us. "Imagine there's no countries. It isn't hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for. No religion too."
No, this guy isn't distraught about Lennon's death. It is just a sketch of one of the okes who worked in the sickbay taking a nap.
The interior of our ward, which I shared mainly with guys with chicken pox. Note the fan on the right.
Room with a view. I've abstracted this view of trees as seen from my bed. One of the best parts of sickbay was being able to bath privately, as opposed to those horrible communal showers.
We met this guy in an earlier posting. He lay in a bad opposite me, and spent much time reading.
The same guy, with those thick-rimmed specs.