If you find yourself close to Kansas City, plan to spend an afternoon at the WWI memorial/monument. And the most gut-wrenching part of the experience is the realization that America entered the war only after a million soldiers had already been sacrificed to the gods of war.
By Wilfred OwenBent 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 hootsOf gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumblingFitting the clumsy helmets just in time,But someone still was yelling out and stumblingAnd flound’ring 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 paceBehind 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 bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.
What is a photo of the flag raising at Iwo doing in a tribute to the WW I dead and those who survived that horrible conflict? What a great heart breaking poem, that perfeclty sums up the cost of war.
♪♫ The sun’s shining down on these green fields of France;The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.The trenches have vanished long under the plow;No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.But here in this graveyard it’s still No Man’s LandThe countless white crosses in mute witness standTo man’s blind indifference to his fellow man.And a whole generation who were butchered and damned. ♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫Did they beat the drum slowly,Did they sound the fife lowly,Did the rifles fire o’er you as they lowered you down?Did the bugles sing “The Last Post” in chorus?Did the pipes play “The Flowers of the Forest?”♪♫♪♫♪♫
♪♫ And I can’t help but wonder, now Willie Mcbride,Do all those who lie here know why they died?Did you really believe them when they told you ’The Cause? ’Did you really believe that this war would end wars?Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shameThe killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,For Willie Mcbride, it all happened again,And again, and again, and again, and again. ♪♫- Eric Bogle -
BE THIS GUY over 6 years ago
Ver nice, but Veterans Day and/or Remembrance Day was yesterday.
Sherlock Watson over 6 years ago
Reminds me of the final scene from Oh! What a Lovely War.
ladykat over 6 years ago
Thank you, Pab.
Masterskrain Premium Member over 6 years ago
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWF2JBb1bvM
thebashfulone over 6 years ago
If you find yourself close to Kansas City, plan to spend an afternoon at the WWI memorial/monument. And the most gut-wrenching part of the experience is the realization that America entered the war only after a million soldiers had already been sacrificed to the gods of war.
Thomas R. Williams over 6 years ago
By Wilfred OwenBent 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 hootsOf gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumblingFitting the clumsy helmets just in time,But someone still was yelling out and stumblingAnd flound’ring 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 paceBehind 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 bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.
seismic-2 Premium Member over 6 years ago
It’s time to re-watch the final minute of Blackadder Goes Forth, possibly the most memorable few seconds in all of television.
schaefer jim over 6 years ago
What is a photo of the flag raising at Iwo doing in a tribute to the WW I dead and those who survived that horrible conflict? What a great heart breaking poem, that perfeclty sums up the cost of war.
BlueIris Premium Member over 6 years ago
@Schaefer Jim Maybe that’s not Iwo? There were 48 states in WWI also, so you can’t tell by the flag.
ars731 over 6 years ago
I agree with Kurt Vonnegut that we should have Armstice Day instead of Veterns day becuase it has a nobler goal of No War and World peace.
TheWildSow over 6 years ago
♪♫ The sun’s shining down on these green fields of France;The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.The trenches have vanished long under the plow;No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.But here in this graveyard it’s still No Man’s LandThe countless white crosses in mute witness standTo man’s blind indifference to his fellow man.And a whole generation who were butchered and damned. ♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫Did they beat the drum slowly,Did they sound the fife lowly,Did the rifles fire o’er you as they lowered you down?Did the bugles sing “The Last Post” in chorus?Did the pipes play “The Flowers of the Forest?”♪♫♪♫♪♫
♪♫ And I can’t help but wonder, now Willie Mcbride,Do all those who lie here know why they died?Did you really believe them when they told you ’The Cause? ’Did you really believe that this war would end wars?Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shameThe killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,For Willie Mcbride, it all happened again,And again, and again, and again, and again. ♪♫- Eric Bogle -