It is now the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month over here.
Ninety-one years ago, the War to End All Wars came to an uneasy halt. That war didn't end all wars, despite the hopeful chirping of the idealists -- it merely set the stage for a bigger global war, which , in turn, set the stage for the global war John and Dusty and I fought, although in different theaters, in different decades.
Four decades ago, today, at just about this time, I was just getting to know my theater, getting my flight gear, steel pot, chicken plate and bullet launcher(s). With bullets.
Last night, I picked up two military history magazines at the PX/BX. Inside the front cover of the one dealing with WWII, I read that, of the 10 million remaining vets of that war, statistically, half are expected to die within the next five years, which triggered the memory of an e-mail I'd read on one of the VietVet fora -- statistically-speaking, all of *us* will be dead before half the remaining WWII vets go.
Heh. It figures.
Ninety-one years after the War to End All Wars, we have veterans of the wars that we fought after that one, and we are still creating veterans in the war we are fighting now. And the idealists are still chirping forlornly that we won't have wars if we will only make the effort to *understand* one another.
Understand this. For as long as free human beings remain free human beings, there *will* be conflicts, and those conflicts will sometimes lead to war, but it's the price exacted for remaining free human beings.
Those we honor on Memorial Day and on Veterans' Day are the ones who said, "Put that on my tab"...
Ninety-one years ago, the War to End All Wars came to an uneasy halt. That war didn't end all wars, despite the hopeful chirping of the idealists -- it merely set the stage for a bigger global war, which , in turn, set the stage for the global war John and Dusty and I fought, although in different theaters, in different decades.
Four decades ago, today, at just about this time, I was just getting to know my theater, getting my flight gear, steel pot, chicken plate and bullet launcher(s). With bullets.
Last night, I picked up two military history magazines at the PX/BX. Inside the front cover of the one dealing with WWII, I read that, of the 10 million remaining vets of that war, statistically, half are expected to die within the next five years, which triggered the memory of an e-mail I'd read on one of the VietVet fora -- statistically-speaking, all of *us* will be dead before half the remaining WWII vets go.
Heh. It figures.
Ninety-one years after the War to End All Wars, we have veterans of the wars that we fought after that one, and we are still creating veterans in the war we are fighting now. And the idealists are still chirping forlornly that we won't have wars if we will only make the effort to *understand* one another.
Understand this. For as long as free human beings remain free human beings, there *will* be conflicts, and those conflicts will sometimes lead to war, but it's the price exacted for remaining free human beings.
Those we honor on Memorial Day and on Veterans' Day are the ones who said, "Put that on my tab"...
But that's a long long way off. We're far too immature. I mean look who we elect. Look at those who can't elect. Our philosophies are disjointed, we are not united, most of us in the world aren't free, our religions where the common call is of love and kindness often deliver the opposite. We often react in fear, not reason. Many individuals don't even get along with our next door neighbours or family properly. Our global united presence is the freaking UN. We have a very very long way to go and I'm quite sure I'll be tucked away in my dirtnap well before then.
Diplomacy is nice when it works but it's not a one size fits all solution and indeed often derives ability from strength such as the threat of war or other advantages a nation has. So in the meantime we have to deal with war, the reality of now with all the resolve Bush harped on about so much. Kumbaya doesn't cut the mustard.
Ignoring reality is unwise. There are no gold farting unicorns. Except for John's of course.
Five old men from Korea and WWII who come to my work and drink coffee every day. Their names I don't know, their service only known by the pins on their hats. God bless them.
Unthinkable hardships. Intense suffering. Enduring spirit.
41st Infantry WWII
This Bud is for you Pop.
'Step forward now, my soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'
Happy Veteran's Day
By the way, I enlisted, in basic training and still got my draft notice. Go figure!