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Trainee beekeeping student Mandy Topping poses for a photograph at the Randalstown and District Beekeeper's Association apiary set in the private estate of Lord O'Neill at Shane's Castle on May 4, 2025 in Randalstown, Northern Ireland. Conservation Charity Buglife's recent report into the Bee population in Northern Ireland highlighted that many species in the country are in decline, with 21 species set to become extinct without intervention. Northern Ireland's honey bees are under threat due to the absence of a bee inspectorate since last year, according to the Ulster Beekeepers Association (UBKA). The bee inspector is responsible for supporting bee health, external and addresses diseases such as American foulbrood (AFB) and European foulbrood (EFB) which affect honey bees. Although beekeepers are responsible for reporting diseases within their own colonies, bee inspectors confirm notifiable diseases, contain outbreaks, inspect neighbouring hives, and advise on destroying affected colonies. Honeybees are also facing decline due to habitat loss, climate change, including the effects of extreme weather, parasites and diseases. This Tuesday, May 20th marks International World Bee Day. (Photo by). DM
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IOL News
3 days ago
- IOL News
The impact of World War I on South Africa: A forgotten home front
A church service was held on the beachfront for Imperial troops shortly before they sailed to the front, April 1917. Many would never see their homes again. Image: Supplied The first World War wrought significant destruction to towns and infrastructure in many European countries. South Africa was spared such damage, where it was not spared was the loss of life, injuries and illness unleashed on its soldiers, the overwhelming majority of whom were volunteers. The Union Defence Force's first campaign was in German South West Africa (Namibia) in 1914-15. Despite the hardship, only 266 men died by the time the Germans surrendered their colony on July 8, 1915. Enthusiastic crowds greeted the returning troops as they disembarked from troop ships at Durban's docks. What followed in the next three years of the war darkened the mood as the death toll rose. The number of soldiers who were wounded or suffering from disease and shell shock overwhelmed the health facilities in Durban. The carnage in France, particularly the nightmare of Delville Wood in July 1916, and the horrors of the East African campaigns were among the most arduous ever undertaken by South African soldiers. In Natal, citizens had from the earliest days of the war began fundraising for their troops on active service, but from 1916 this was considerably stepped up. The most important was the Governor-General's War Fund, which had been established by the new Governor-General, Viscount Buxton, in 1914. It was a national fund to which any soldier or his dependents could apply for assistance while on active service. The Durban Turf Club gifted a fully equipped Sunbeam ambulance for the SA Brigade in France, July 1917. Image: Supplied As the war progressed, it incorporated some of the local relief funds, including the Mayoral funds in Durban and Pietermaritzburg. The aim was to raise £1 million. The rationalisation of fundraising reduced inefficiency, but not the increasing workload. All sorts of local groups devised ways to garner support and donations, from businesses and sporting bodies to churches, boy scouts and schools. Other national bodies which contributed to the war effort were the Red Cross and the Gifts and Comforts Organisation which collected monthly supplies of cigarettes, socks, woollen clothes, matches, dried fruit, sweets and books for servicemen. The Red Cross supported the medical profession, the sick and wounded as well as the provision of stores and equipment for military hospitals. The lack of hospitals and convalescent homes worsened as the war dragged on. In Durban, No.3 General Hospital had two bases, one in Addington and the other at the Drill Hall of Durban Light Infantry. Convalescent hospitals were created at Ocean Beach for whites and at Jacobs for black Africans, especially those returning from East Africa. Boy Scouts rally at Ocean Beach. They were presented with a flag in appreciation for services given to the war effort, June 1917. Image: Supplied Nurses and patients at Caister House, the Greenacre home in Musgrave Road, February 1918. Image: Supplied Private homes were also turned over to the military for the duration of the war. These included Caister House which belonged to the Greenacre family and Grasmere, the Musgrave home of the Smith family. The shortage of nurses enabled the Voluntary Aid Detachment (VAD) to come into their own. These were untrained civilian nurses, often from middle or upper class families, who provided continuity of care for recovering soldiers. Some also did cooking in a convalescent home, others drove ambulances. They increased their skills during the war, winning the respect and gratitude of trained nurses and patients alike. Voluntary Aid Detachment ladies at the Durban docks with wounded soldiers being loaded into an awaiting ambulance, April 1917. Image: Supplied Being a major port, troop ships docked in Durban. Many wounded were treated in the town before going home or returning to the front. This included thousands of soldiers from Australia and New Zealand. Their long voyage to or from Europe was broken by a stopover in Durban. A columnist wrote in September 1917 that 'Durban has been a panorama of Khaki during the week… giving townspeople an idea of the magnitude of the war. Soldiers come and go; some on their way to battle fronts, others bearing on their scarred and mutilated bodies grim evidence of the fiery furnace through which they have passed in the service of king and empire. Outings and entertainment were arranged for the 'khaki visitors', who were 'enthusiastically appreciative of the people of Durban and the kindness of the women workers of the huts.' The huts were established by the YMCA at Congella, in West Street and at Ocean Beach. The Army and Navy Institute as well as other institutions provided reading and writing rooms and facilities for sports like billiards. Other activities were at Albert Park or in the grounds of homes belonging to prominent citizens. Outings were arranged to Mitchell Park and as far as Mount Edgecombe. Many photos survive of soldiers on crutches or in wheelchairs enjoying the efforts made for them. The war finally ended on 11 November 1918, but troops continued to return home in 1919. Many faced hardship and struggled to adapt to their old lives. There was also the Spanish flu which started spreading during the last months of the war and into 1919, despite attempts to contain it by quarantining returning soldiers on Salisbury Island. It was to little avail. As early as 8 November 1918, a columnist wrote of the dreadful progress of the epidemic, noting that South Africa had already lost more lives through this scourge than during the whole period of the war. And so the hospitals and convalescent homes faced an increased workload. The home front in World War 1 has received little attention, but the contribution made at home - whether in the large towns or small villages - was significant. Those civilians at home certainly did their bit. In July 1917, the first anniversary of the slaughter at Delville Wood was commemorated with a solemn service in Durban. This commemoration endures to this day with the SA Legion organising a service and wreath-laying ceremony at the Cenotaph. It will take place on Sunday, July 20, at 10.15am. Sadly, the Defence Force and even the regiments which sacrificed so many men, have become increasingly indifferent to this long-ago battle. One school, Glenwood High, continues to honour its World War 1 dead, with a service set to take place in its school hall on July 24. We should honour those who gave their lives in war and be grateful it was not us. SUNDAY TRIBUNE
IOL News
5 days ago
- IOL News
Pope Leo XIV receives 100 kilograms of letters daily
Pope Leo XIV arrives on the main central loggia balcony of the St Peter's Basilica for the first time after being elected to take over from the late Pope Francis on May 8. Image: Alberto PIZZOLI / AFP Leo XIV has not long been pope, yet the American head of the Catholic Church already receives 100 kilograms of letters a day, faithfully sorted by the Italian post office. Missives from around the world, addressed to "His Holiness" in flowing cursive, in stark block capitals or in scrawls, are sorted into a series of yellow crates in a vast hangar near Rome's Fiumicino airport. Robert Francis Prevost was a relatively unknown churchman when he was elected pontiff on May 8, but vast numbers of the faithful are penning him letters of support and pleas for him to pray on their behalf. "We receive hundreds of letters a day addressed to the pope, with peaks of 100 kilos per day, or an average of 500 to 550 kilos per week," Antonello Chidichimo, director of the sorting centre, told AFP. "There are many letters written by children, postcards, and it's wonderful to see that in the digital age, many people still use a pen to write to the pope," he noted. Bearing colourful stamps, the day's letters -- one of which is decorated with hand-drawn red hearts -- arrive from as far afield as Andorra, Brazil, Cameroon, Hong Kong or the US. After being sorted by machine -- or by hand if a hand-written address is indecipherable -- the mail is collected by a van that delivers it the same day to the Vatican, about 20 kilometres away. Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ Pilgrims and tourists visiting the Vatican can also write to the pope and drop their letters directly -- no stamp needed -- at the Vatican Post Office, where it is collected four times a day. "Many of those who drop off these letters come from South America or Asia," Nicola Vaccaro, an employee at the central office in St Peter's Square, told AFP. "They mainly write to ask for intercession (prayers) for a sick person or a loved one," he said. Among the letters and packages, Vaccaro has even seen someone post the pope a teddy bear. Behind the walls of the world's smallest state, the mail is centralised and sorted by the Secretariat of State, which performs standard security checks before delivering it to the pope's inner circle. Senders who provide their address can expect a response -- from the Vatican or on rare occasions the pontiff himself. Leo's predecessor Pope Francis, who received a bumper postbag as he battled ill health before his death earlier this year, had been known to answer some letters in person. His handwritten notes were scanned by his private secretary who then sent them -- by email. THE MERCURY
IOL News
5 days ago
- IOL News
Eight decades later, a Holocaust survivor reunites with his liberator
Andrew Roth, left, with Jack Moran during their reunion on June 5. Roth is a Holocaust survivor, and Jack Moran was one of the American soldiers who liberated him from Buchenwald concentration camp in 1945. Image: Courtesy of USCSF Sydney Page Jack Moran entered Buchenwald concentration camp on April 11, 1945. Immediately, he said, he was overcome by what he saw. An American soldier, Moran was there to help liberate more than 21,000 people, most of them Jews, who had been imprisoned there for months or even years. Moran, then 19, saw emaciated prisoners barely clinging to life. 'They treated them like cattle,' he said. 'They were malnourished; they needed medical attention.' Among the prisoners was Andrew Roth, a Jewish Hungarian teenager who had survived several concentration camps, including Auschwitz. Roth, 97, remembers the day he was liberated from Buchenwald with complete clarity. 'It was unbelievable,' he said. An undated photo of Jack Moran when he was in the United States Armed Forces. Image: Family photo Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ Ad loading Recently, 80 years after the men first crossed paths, their lives intersected once again – though this time in Los Angeles, where they both live. Their reunion was arranged by the USC Shoah Foundation, with the goal of bringing together a survivor and a liberator whose lives converged amid the horrors of the war. Organizations like the USC Shoah Foundation are racing against time to acquire as many firsthand accounts as possible. 'We are at this tipping point where the history could be lost, or it could remain relevant for future generations,' said Robert Williams, chief executive officer of the USC Shoah Foundation. 'I knew we were at a moment where both the liberators and the survivors were passing very quickly.' For Williams, the reunion between Roth and Moran felt urgent. Williams' own great-uncle, Cliff, was also a Buchenwald liberator. 'No one who was touched by the Holocaust walks away unchanged,' he said. 'This is a subject that shaped the present world, and we need to remember it.' Williams arranged for Roth and Moran to meet on June 5. He knew their conversation – which was recorded – would be meaningful to both of them, as well as those who listened to it. The two men, Roth, left, and Moran, right, recounted their stories in a recorded interview. Image: Courtesy of USCSF 'We've seen how powerful it has been in the past when survivors and liberators had the chance to meet one another and share their common bond,' he said. Indeed, although Moran and Roth had entirely different experiences during the Second World War, they felt an immediate kinship and connection. 'We felt like brothers,' said Moran, who is 99. 'I don't cry easily,' Roth said, 'but my eyes welled up when I saw him.' A group photo at an orphanage in Ambloy, France, where Roth ended up after the war with other Buchenwald prisoners, along with the female social workers who helped take care of them. Roth is top row, second from the right. Image: Family photo Both men recounted their stories. Roth was born in Penészlek – a small village in Hungary – in September 1927, to an orthodox Jewish family. He had five siblings, only one of whom survived the Holocaust. The Nazis deported Roth and his family to a ghetto in Romania in 1944, and not long after, they were sent in a cattle car to the Auschwitz death camp. 'After what seemed like an eternity, the train stopped,' Roth recalled. 'It was full of people, many of them were dead already.' When Roth arrived at the camp, he lied about his age, claiming he was 18 (he was 16), making him eligible to work. Guards were separating people into two lines, and while his mother and siblings went in one line, Roth followed his uncle and cousin to the other. 'It was my instinct,' said Roth, who received a numbered tattoo on his left arm by the Nazis, as part of their system to track and manage prisoners at Auschwitz. The two men hugging during their meeting. Image: Courtesy of USCSF His family was murdered in a gas chamber that same day. Roth was transported to a forced labor camp, Buna, a sub-camp of Auschwitz. He remained there for about nine months, until he was moved to Buchenwald concentration camp in Germany. Roth remained there for about three months until he was liberated. 'It was hell on earth. We had no blankets, no mattresses, no heat,' Roth said. 'You had to be very resourceful to survive.' He remembers starving. 'I stole food from the German Shepherds and the garbage can,' Roth said. 'I didn't mind climbing over a fence, even if I was electrified. I did what I had to do.' Writer Elie Wiesel was in Roth's block at Buchenwald, and after the war, he went on to write 'Night,' a memoir based on his survival story. 'We had similar experiences, so when I read his book, I read my story,' Roth said. 'All the survivors, we felt like we were brothers.' Before they were liberated, Roth said, they were not given food for 40 days. 'The only thing I ate in those 40 days was dog food,' he said. When U.S. soldiers, including Moran, arrived to free him, 'it was a sign from heaven,' Roth said. 'I couldn't believe it could happen.' Since that day, Roth has celebrated his birthday on April 11. 'I was born again' said Roth, who worked for the Hungarian Embassy in Paris after the war, and later moved to Los Angeles, where he worked for another Holocaust survivor who owned a carpet business. He went on to start his own carpet business, and he continues to be a real estate investor. He has two children and two grandchildren. For Moran, who was born in Superior, Wisconsin in 1925, April 11, 1945 was also a momentous day. 'It was a miracle,' he said. 'It felt good comforting these people, giving them some of our rations.' Moran was 17 when he enlisted in the army, and he was deployed to the battlefields of Western Europe in 1944. During his first battle in the Saar Valley, he lost his four best friends. 'It was very sad … people were dropping like flies' he said. 'I had seen so many kids fallen. We took it as a product of war and kept going. We had no choice.' During the Battle of the Bulge – the final major German offensive on the Western Front – Moran was stuck in a frozen foxhole for six days. 'We had no food after the third day, and the snow was our water because we had no water,' Moran said. 'I was scared to death, freezing. There were dead bodies around us but we couldn't move, we had to live with them.' While in Nazi-occupied Europe, Moran said he saw many signs of the Holocaust. 'I remember opening up the doors of several boxcars, and there would be hundreds of suitcases,' he said. 'The owners never got to see their suitcases again.' 'It's tragic that someone had the power to do that to the human race,' Moran added. Of the 33 men in his platoon, Moran said, only two returned to the United States alive. Moran moved to Milwaukee after the war, then settled in Los Angeles, where he worked for a brewing company. He has three children, three grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. 'It was just an absolute miracle that I survived,' said Moran, who, for the last 20 years, has spent his time connecting with the families of lost soldiers. 'That gives me great joy … to give them comfort.' It also gave him joy to meet Roth, who he now considers 'a good new friend.' 'He and I hugged and shared our good thoughts,' Moran said. 'He thanked me for liberating the camp, and I was congratulating him on being able to survive.' Their reunion was a powerful reminder of all that was lost – and saved. 'I'm grateful to people like Jack, who took the trouble to fight for us,' Roth said. 'It was very brave of them."
