Year 1916 (MCMXVI) was a leap year starting on Saturday (link will display the full calendar) of the Gregorian calendar and a leap year starting on Friday of the 13-day-slower Julian calendar.
Below, the events of World War I have the "WWI" prefix.
Fergal Patrick Keane (Irish name: Fearghall Pádraig Ó Catháin) (born January 6, 1961), is an Irish writer and broadcaster. For many years, Keane was the BBC's correspondent in Southern Africa. He is the nephew of Irish author John B. Keane.
Born in London, he grew up in Dublin and later in Cork. His father was the Listowel-born actor, Éamonn Keane. He attended two independent, fee-paying schools, Terenure College[citation needed] in Dublin and Presentation Brothers College in Cork. In 2010, he published his first major history work Road of Bones: the Siege of Kohima 1944, an account of the epic battle which halted the Japanese invasion of India in 1944.
On finishing school in 1979, he started his career as a journalist with the Limerick Leader. Subsequently, he worked for The Irish Press. Later, he moved into broadcast journalism with Raidió Teilifís Éireann (RTÉ).
He joined the BBC in 1989 as Northern Ireland Correspondent, but in August 1990 he was appointed their Southern African Correspondent, having covered the region during the early 1980s. From 1990 to 1994 Keane's reports covered the township unrest in South Africa, the first multi-racial elections following the end of apartheid, and the genocide in Rwanda. In 1995 he was appointed Asia Correspondent based in Hong Kong and two years later, after the handover, he returned to be based in the BBC's World Affairs Unit in London.
Juan Hipólito del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús Irigoyen Alem (Spanish pronunciation: [iˈpolito iɾiˈɣoʝen]; July 12, 1852 – July 3, 1933) was twice President of Argentina (from 1916 to 1922, and again from 1928 to 1930). His activism became the prime impetus behind the obtainment of universal (male) suffrage in Argentina in 1912. Known as “the father of the poor,” Yrigoyen presided over a rise in the standard of living of Argentina's working class together with the passage of a number of progressive social reforms, including improvements in factory conditions, regulation of working hours, compulsory pensions, and the introduction of a universally accessible public education system.
He was born in Buenos Aires, and worked as a school teacher before entering politics. In 1891 he co-founded the Radical Civic Union (Unión Cívica Radical), together with his uncle, Leandro Alem. Yrigoyen (he signed that way to distinguish himself from Bernardo de Irigoyen's political ideas) was popularly known as "el peludo" (the hairy armadillo) due to his introverted character and aversion to being seen in public. Following Alem's suicide in 1896, Hipólito Yrigoyen assumed sole leadership of the Radical Civic Union. It adopted a policy of intransigency, a position of total opposition to the regime known as "The Agreement". Established by electoral fraud, this was an agreed formula among the political parties of that time for alternating in power.
Lillian Diana Gish (October 14, 1893 – February 27, 1993) was an American stage, screen and television actress whose film acting career spanned 75 years, from 1912 to 1987. She was called "The First Lady of American Cinema".
She was a prominent film star of the 1910s and 1920s, particularly associated with the films of director D.W. Griffith, including her leading role in Griffith's seminal Birth of a Nation (1915). Her sound-era film appearances were sporadic, but included memorable roles in the controversial western Duel in the Sun (1946) and the offbeat thriller Night of the Hunter (1955). She did considerable television work from the early 1950s into the 1980s, and closed her career playing, for the first time, opposite Bette Davis in the 1987 film The Whales of August.
The American Film Institute (AFI) named Gish 17th among the greatest female stars of all time. She was awarded an Honorary Academy Award in 1971, and in 1984 she received an AFI Life Achievement Award.
16 years old when I went to war,
To fight for a land fit for heroes,
God on my side, and a gun in my hand,
Chasing my days down to zero,
And I marched and I fought and I bled and I died,
And I never did get any older,
But I knew at the time that a year in the line,
Is a long enough life for a soldier,
We all volunteered, and we wrote down our names,
And we added two years to our ages,
Eager for life and ahead of the game,
Ready for history's pages,
And we brawled and we fought and we whored 'til we stood,
Ten thousand shoulder to shoulder,
A thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun,
And that's what you are when you're soldiers,
I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees,
Coughing blood as he screamed for his mother,
And I fell by his side, and that's how we died,
Clinging like kids to each other,
And I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood,
And I wept as his body grew colder,
And I called for my mother and she never came,
Though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame,
The day not half over and ten thousand slain,
And now there's nobody remembers our names,
And that's how it is for a soldier.
16 years old when I went to the war
To fight for a land fit for heroes
God on my side and a gun in my hand
Chasing my days down to zero
And I marched and I fought and I bled and I died,
And I never did get any older,
But I knew at the time that a year in the line
Was a long enough life for a soldier.
We all volunteered and we wrote down our names,
And we added two years to our ages
Eager for life and ahead of the game
Ready for history's pages
And we brawled and we fought and we whored 'til we stood
Ten thousand shoulder to shoulder
A thirst for the hun we were food for the gun
And that's what you are when you're soldiers.
I heard my friend cry and he sank to his knees,
Coughing blood as he screemed for his mother
And I fell by his side and that's how we died,
Clinging like kids to each other
And I lay in the mud, an' the guts and the blood,
And I wept as his body grew colder
And I called for my mother and she never came
Though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame
The day not half over and tenthousand slain,
And now there's nobody remembers our names,
i let my hands get caught
in all the flame
well i cannot play again
when do you ask me if
i am okay?
i see it when we dance
and make a pouters potrait
on the steps, oh my
it is divine
but there is just one more question
i will ask, is all this really mine?
inside my heart i scream,
it must be time this weather cant be right
we rode our horses to the outer edge
the crusty, dry divide.
and we became the people
we have never meant to be
those dying flames
the pieces we did not want to receive
and when you come home from your dinners
darling, do you want to fight?
and when i cut the lines within my hands
will you still want to cry?
and when your gal decides she's on her own
you'll rethink your romance
you never want to care for
anyway you're taking down that fence
but when you come home to the kitchen
i am waiting at the sink
my salty fingers ride across the cupboard
drenching it with skin
we are in love
and rare descendants
of the faithless brats
who bit their tongues
who screamed instead
to scare their onward sons
and in the trees they built their
truths and meaningless machines
we grew from beans
that froze beneath the snow