how would that be a political thought? i didn't comment on politics at all
so you were in the military , good for you.
where you in the ***** at some point?
shelled? bombed? shot? gassed?
i've never been in the military , i don't want to , i fail to see the fun in getting shot at, and as "what would i know if i wasn't in the military?"
i was born in Ypres, maybe the Big War is over for 80 years now
but everywhere i looked when growning up , i saw proof of dead people
ever been to Ypres? seen all the names of all the poor bastards on the wall? heard the Last Post, still played everyday at 20h sharp?
i think the clostest thing that compares to it is Hiroshima memorial, which happens to be sister city with Ypres now, or the Arizona memorial in Pearl Harbour.
there's probably more folks who never got a proper burial in the ground of my home town and the villages around it, than Hiroshima or the Arizona put together.
my neeces husband is curator for the Flanders Fields Museum, i've seen the worst that man can do to another man, read the stories, i did the website for a couple of years and was in the museum a lot, if i know one thing, and i can say that without having been in the military , is that there is no glory in beeing a grunt, beeing cannon fodder because some politician decided he wanted a fight, and because some general decided he wants hill 60 now...
these guys did not have a choice
in those days, you got drafted, if you failed to show up
you got shot in the head with a cheap bullet after a 5 second judgement
there is no glory in war and if anyone has the choice of not signing up for it....
this is where i grew up, there's thousands of cemeteries scattered across the land, they're everywhere
that last picture...that's Tynecot cemetry , 11871 souls.
70% of them are unnamed graves
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.