Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Futility

Not a lot to say tonight really. I'm in a fairly sombre mood. (You might want to skip this ramble if you don't feel like being depressed).

It was Remembrance Sunday this past weekend and of course it's Armistice Day tomorrow. I bought my Flanders poppy last week. The day I got it was, coincidentally, the anniversary of the last day of the third battle of Ypres. Passchendaele. I died in Hell - they called it Passchendaele. (Siegfried Sassoon). And I thought about "The War to End Wars". And all the wars since then.

And then today six coffins arrived back in England. Six coffins, six soldiers, six fathers/husbands/brothers/sons. The youngest was just 18. I can't remember exactly what I was doing at 18. I was a-serving of 'er Majesty the Queen in what was then the WRAF. I was probably being yelled at for not having my hat on straight or something. Whatever I was doing I'm damned sure I wasn't expecting my life to end suddenly and bloodily. And I wondered what the hell was the point. What did all those millions die for in two world wars. Because we haven't leant a damn' thing. We still send eighteen-years-old lads to die in foreign fields. And for what?? Greed. Hate. Religion, (or at least the corrupted version of it). War settles nothing.

And tomorrow, when I stand silently for two minutes, I'll be thinking of them. The dead of the two wars,and the way we've betrayed their sacrifice by continuing to wage war ever more fiercely. I'll be thinking of the lads who died then and the lads who still die.

And I'll ask why. Why do they still die?? What's the point??

And I ponder the futility of it all.

Ze

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