memorial – WeavingLight

The HTMS Prasae was an old Tacoma class Patrol Frigate from the latter part of WWII. She served in the Pacific and later in the Korean War before being transfered to the Royal Thai Navy until she was decomissioned and moved to the mouth of the Prasae River near the eastern edge of Rayong Province.

Being a patrol frigate it’s a smaller ship, and could do with some preservation work, but it’s fun to walk around. You can’t wander around the insides, but you can walk around the exterior decks and visit the bridge. Some of the machine guns still have a bit of movement and a few of the main guns can be moved up and down using the controls, so a bit of fun there.

Tourist walks past the bow of HTMS Prasae

Tourists take photos at the stern of HTMS Prasae

Having said that it could do with a bit of preservation work, it’s great that the Royal Thai Navy kept the ship as a memorial for people to visit, especially since it has had a history dating back to the second world war. Plus they deserve credit for not charging an entrance fee.

Other than the ship, there is not much else to see. There are plenty of food stalls, but it is on the coast so expect a lot of seafood, and there is plenty of parking on the site. Something a little different to see.

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Robert Laurence Binyon

Tag: memorial

HTMS Prasae Memorial

For the Fallen