"War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things: the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing worth a war, is worse.... A war to protect other human beings against tyrannical injustice; a war to give victory to their own ideas of right and good, and which is their own war, carried on for an honest purpose by their own free choice—is often the means of their regeneration."
-- John Stuart Mill, "The Contest in America,"
"I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its stupidity."-- Dwight D. Eisenhower, speech, Jan. 10, 1946
"I know not with what weapons World War II will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."
-- Albert Einstein
And, a poem by Henry Reed, an English poet who was killed in World War I. Told in the voice of an instructor teaching new soldiers about their rifle, it juxtaposes the poet's observation of the beauty of nature around him and the absurdity of war for any but the most noble purpose.
NAMING OF PARTS
By Henry Reed
Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,
Today we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens
And to-day we have naming of parts.
This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.
This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.
And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.
They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For today we have naming of parts.
Thank you for the rememberance, Mr.Caruba, and thank you for your service.
My grandfather, Orlo Eglehoff was shot on November 12, 1944 in the french village of San Lowe, and died on November 14, 1944, on my mother's birthday. He was shot by a German sniper. Some of his company found and shot the sniper before he could get more soldiers.
War is tragic, but this war had to be fought because of the doom that would of awaited the world if Germany was left to do what it wanted to do, but at a heavy cost.
Thank you again.
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