My grandfather was born in 1898,, or thereabouts. He went to Flanders in 1917 I think, straight out of school. He was a second lieutenant, a rank with an average life expectancy of 6 weeks He was exceptionally good at maths, so he was put in the artilliary, and it was his job to calculate the angle the big guns had to be set at to hit their targets
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GOOD-MORNING; good-morning!’ the General said
When we met him last week on our way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,
And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
He’s a cheery old card,’ grunted Harry to Jack
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.
. . . .
But he did for them both by his plan of attack.
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The monuments throughout England, Scotland Wales, France and Belgium are amazing. We stopped at tiny villages and looked at the names that crowded around the statues. Some of the smallest places fielded so many young men, who gave their lives some place far from home. War is far more personal there than here. Here, the only wars we've seen are drug wars, usually between different dealing factions and we sneer and say that the vermin are taking each other out. Real war hasn't touched the States since the Civil War, so you can imagine how distant it seems.
I just got back from grocery shopping. With the exception of the lack of mail, you couldn't tell that today was any different from any other.
Thanks for reminding me, and hopefully others as well, of those who died to defend us and those who came home, never unscathed.
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