98 years ago Mark Twain penned a short piece called The War Prayer. I offer it as being pertinent to where we find ourselves tonight.
I have transcribed it into a word document that is a couple of pages long. Rather than post it here, I will send it as an attachment to anyone that wants a copy. Send me an email to jdurdin@heartland.net
“When Harper’s Bazaar received the typescript of “The War Prayer”—a response to U.S. military intervention in the Philippines—editors rejected it as unsuitable, leaving Twain to remark that since “only the dead are allowed to speak the truth,” it would never be published in his lifetime. It wasn’t. That was in 1905, but the intervening century seems to have changed little. Undoubtedly, this American classic is relevant as ever.”
The Plough Reader/ Winter 2002
What a wonderful piece. Let us all just hope that those things the “lunatic” listed will be minimal in this upcoming war… and that we will have the courage and means to heal them after it’s over. Thanks for sharing.
And in a like vein, some Wilfred Owen, a poet and victim of WWI –
The Parable of the Young Man and the Old
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned, both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake, and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets the trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
Thanks, Jim. That hit home. Twain is timeless. I carry a paperback copy of his “Following the Equator” with me when I travel, and I never tire of reading it. I come proudly from a long line of soldiers, but a somber mood surrounds me today. I have a grown son deployed in the 4th Infantry Divison and a nephew deployed (in Afghanistan) in the 1st Cavalry Division, both out of Ft Hood in Texas. God knows why, but I’m sitting here lurking, while listening to CNN, and reading the array of opinions on whistles and war. I am amazed at the amount of thoughtful and intelligent dialogue found here on the board; shared by those bound by a fondness of music, tradition and a heartfelt respect for life and liberty. My younger son, Matt cried tonight when he heard about the Marine deaths (copter crash) and asked whether Robert or John were involved. Of course, he thinks they are invinsible, and I don’t know quite how to tell him otherwise. All of us who have served on the front lines are haunted by a personal darkness, a demon born from our experiences. I’ve got unhealed service wounds from long ago, a permanent reminder of a hell I didn’t understand then and I don’t really understand now. I grew up in a day that changed my life forever during a recon mission on the Laotian border 33 years ago. I remember more about that day than I do about my wedding and the birth of my sons. To all of you with misgivings, you have good reasons to be in doubt. For many, there will simply be no happy ending, but rather a lifetime of pain and sorrow. For those of you supporting this nation’s actions, be ever thankful for the sons and daughters who do the dirty work. Take solace in knowing that they believe in what they are doing. They are brave kids who deserve your support and prayers. For those of you vehemently opposed, channel your anger constructively. Don’t mock or defile those who risk their lives defending your right to be contrary. Your positive and peaceful influence will be heard. Keep it going.
To all, please, play a gentle air for my kid and my brother’s son and for all of the yound folks out there in harms way. They need your kind thoughts.