Remembrance Day
"Come on, you sons of bitches! Don't you want to live forever?"
Gunnery Sergeant Dan Daly, to a pinned-down USMC platoon during the Battle of Belleau Wood, near Paris, France 1st-26th June 1918
Today's Remembrance Day, the day of poppies and of bloodshed, where we think of those who paid the ultimate price in their beliefs of the twin sisters of liberty and freedom, and send them our gratitudes. I write with the blood of those who died, those who were finally able to unveil the gory truth behind the romantic, gallant splendors of war.
That life begins under a peaceful hood for most of our generation came from a long, senseless procedure by which a bullet costs more than a man, where the price of bread is greater than dignity itself, and to live is to defy mortality itself. I cannot handicap myself by thinking that such things we have today is given to us by free will, but to remember that for many things that I am able to have, someone gave their life for.
Saying that, I'm really pained by how I'm going to understand the events that are occurring today, will be explained a decade from now. How to tell my child, when he asks of my years in a country at war, that a soldier died for something needless? To paraphrase, at the risk of being parodied, Michael Moore: 'How could they ever trust us again? The ones with the least, the ones who volunteered their lives and everything they had to be our first line of defense, all in the exchange of trust that we not send them unless absolutely necessary to the country... How could they ever trust us again?'
There's a lot of times that I wish I could volunteer, even in a senseless war like this. I'm against it on all grounds, yet I feel the need to serve my country. The war is pointless, doesn't seem to serve anybody's interests but our foolish president's agenda, and we can't get a straight answer on why we're there or why people are being deprived of their individual futures. It's a crazy feeling to have.
The Iraqi War. Sounds like a chapter out of The Annotated History of the Imperial Empire, 1066-1997. But it's not. I'm ashamed to say that today's day of the dead will include the names of those who have died for reasons that have been disproved time and again, and will include future casualties of this war as well.
Somewhere, a little girl will recite In Flanders Field in front of a burning torch. Poppies will pop up everywhere. The last survivors of a grim, international conflict will march in their colors again, tearing up at friends lost in murky trenches and dismal woods. Today is a day where we should ask for white poppies, for peace.
Without peace, there shall be none left of this world for anyone.
Gunnery Sergeant Dan Daly, to a pinned-down USMC platoon during the Battle of Belleau Wood, near Paris, France 1st-26th June 1918
Today's Remembrance Day, the day of poppies and of bloodshed, where we think of those who paid the ultimate price in their beliefs of the twin sisters of liberty and freedom, and send them our gratitudes. I write with the blood of those who died, those who were finally able to unveil the gory truth behind the romantic, gallant splendors of war.
That life begins under a peaceful hood for most of our generation came from a long, senseless procedure by which a bullet costs more than a man, where the price of bread is greater than dignity itself, and to live is to defy mortality itself. I cannot handicap myself by thinking that such things we have today is given to us by free will, but to remember that for many things that I am able to have, someone gave their life for.
Saying that, I'm really pained by how I'm going to understand the events that are occurring today, will be explained a decade from now. How to tell my child, when he asks of my years in a country at war, that a soldier died for something needless? To paraphrase, at the risk of being parodied, Michael Moore: 'How could they ever trust us again? The ones with the least, the ones who volunteered their lives and everything they had to be our first line of defense, all in the exchange of trust that we not send them unless absolutely necessary to the country... How could they ever trust us again?'
There's a lot of times that I wish I could volunteer, even in a senseless war like this. I'm against it on all grounds, yet I feel the need to serve my country. The war is pointless, doesn't seem to serve anybody's interests but our foolish president's agenda, and we can't get a straight answer on why we're there or why people are being deprived of their individual futures. It's a crazy feeling to have.
The Iraqi War. Sounds like a chapter out of The Annotated History of the Imperial Empire, 1066-1997. But it's not. I'm ashamed to say that today's day of the dead will include the names of those who have died for reasons that have been disproved time and again, and will include future casualties of this war as well.
Somewhere, a little girl will recite In Flanders Field in front of a burning torch. Poppies will pop up everywhere. The last survivors of a grim, international conflict will march in their colors again, tearing up at friends lost in murky trenches and dismal woods. Today is a day where we should ask for white poppies, for peace.
Without peace, there shall be none left of this world for anyone.