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Nov. 11th, 2005 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labellementeuseOn the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month...
Today is Armistice Day. On this day in 1918, an armistice was signed between the Allies and Germany, ending four years of bloody trench warfare of The Great War.
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.
Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
--Wilfred Owen
But the one that really breaks my heart is this one:
The Next War
War's a joke for me and you,
While we know such dreams are true. --Sassoon
Out there, we've talked quite friendly up to Death;
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,--
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odor of his breath,--
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorused when he sang aloft;
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.
Oh, Death was never an enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against his powers.
We laughed, knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death--for Life; not men--for flags.
--Wilfred Owen
Since WWI there's been WWII, Korea, Vietnam, hundreds of smaller wars everywhere; and, of late, wars in Irag, Afghanistan...
If you would like to take a moment to think about Armistice Day, here are some things that you might find valuable.
A soldier's declaration, Siegfried Sassoon
Suicide in the Trenches, by Siegfried Sassoon
Base Details by Siegfried Sassoon
Futility by Wilfred Owen
They are all short, but I believe this to be important. Please, take a moment to read some of these poems and think.
Today is Armistice Day. On this day in 1918, an armistice was signed between the Allies and Germany, ending four years of bloody trench warfare of The Great War.
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.
Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
--Wilfred Owen
But the one that really breaks my heart is this one:
The Next War
War's a joke for me and you,
While we know such dreams are true. --Sassoon
Out there, we've talked quite friendly up to Death;
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,--
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odor of his breath,--
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorused when he sang aloft;
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.
Oh, Death was never an enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against his powers.
We laughed, knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death--for Life; not men--for flags.
--Wilfred Owen
Since WWI there's been WWII, Korea, Vietnam, hundreds of smaller wars everywhere; and, of late, wars in Irag, Afghanistan...
If you would like to take a moment to think about Armistice Day, here are some things that you might find valuable.
A soldier's declaration, Siegfried Sassoon
Suicide in the Trenches, by Siegfried Sassoon
Base Details by Siegfried Sassoon
Futility by Wilfred Owen
They are all short, but I believe this to be important. Please, take a moment to read some of these poems and think.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 12:25 am (UTC)I must also remember to wear my poppy. --'' *forgetful - It's on my sweater, but I forgot to take it off my sweater to wear it to today*
I did a paper on one of Wilfred Owen's poems in grade nine. I don't remember which poem it was.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 09:54 pm (UTC)They sell poppies on ANZAC Day here, not Armistice day, for some reason. That I've seen, anyway.
*g* I think everyone
no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 01:16 am (UTC)Wilfred Owen kicks war-glorifying ASS.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:04 pm (UTC)he so doe, although I actually prefer Sassoon. But Dulce et Decorum Est is one of those absolute necessities.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 02:57 am (UTC)These are lovely poems... We have many men who were sent to fight in the First War and no one remembers them beacause sadly ' it wasn't our war'.
We need to remember...all of us no matter where we are from or who's war it was or is...
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 04:19 am (UTC)"If any question why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied." - Rudyard Kipling
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 08:17 am (UTC)They're great poems Tui... thanks!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:10 pm (UTC)Twice annual, actually, because I do something similar for ANZAC day. ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 08:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-13 06:25 am (UTC)