Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
Nov. 10th, 2002 01:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenSo... today is Armistice Day and I was asleep during the two-minute silence. Before I begin being cynical, I will say the soldiers in the First World War did fight under unimaginably awful conditions, and we all know so much about the trenches. About how in the front line trenches, the soldiers wallowed in knee-deep water, assaulted by the smell of rotting bodies crawling with rats, cold, wet, hungry and a very very long way from home. They were to come back to a hero's welcome - which of course didn't materialise.
However, every year since then, there is a two-minute silence at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, so "we will remember them."
But isn't it strange, the display of ardent patriotism on the part of the British? They seem to be patriotic at only certain times - during the World Cup, for example, and during the Queen's Golden Jubillee. The fact that both happened at the same time was just sheer bad luck.
The Daily Mail published an old photograph a few days ago - it showed Armistice Day, 1940. The picture showed a lady dressed in a pretty dress, wearing heels and a hat with flowers, and there was a tray of poppies around her neck. So far, so good... but the only other person in the picture was a ragged street urchin, and the backdrop was a familiar view of London during the Blitz - in other words, a bombsite. The newspaper claimed this picture showed the patriotism of the British in the face of adversity. I claimed the picture showed the stupidity of the British in the face of everything.
I complained to Pedar about all this at length. He launched his hands in the air in that gesture we have in common, and said, "What did I tell you about the Daily Mail? They're... weird."
I agreed. The British are only patriotic when it suits them, which is during wartime, the World Cup, and royal anniversaries. Armistice Day is a good idea in theory, but the poet was right. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
However, every year since then, there is a two-minute silence at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, so "we will remember them."
But isn't it strange, the display of ardent patriotism on the part of the British? They seem to be patriotic at only certain times - during the World Cup, for example, and during the Queen's Golden Jubillee. The fact that both happened at the same time was just sheer bad luck.
The Daily Mail published an old photograph a few days ago - it showed Armistice Day, 1940. The picture showed a lady dressed in a pretty dress, wearing heels and a hat with flowers, and there was a tray of poppies around her neck. So far, so good... but the only other person in the picture was a ragged street urchin, and the backdrop was a familiar view of London during the Blitz - in other words, a bombsite. The newspaper claimed this picture showed the patriotism of the British in the face of adversity. I claimed the picture showed the stupidity of the British in the face of everything.
I complained to Pedar about all this at length. He launched his hands in the air in that gesture we have in common, and said, "What did I tell you about the Daily Mail? They're... weird."
I agreed. The British are only patriotic when it suits them, which is during wartime, the World Cup, and royal anniversaries. Armistice Day is a good idea in theory, but the poet was right. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
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no subject
on 2002-11-10 07:10 am (UTC)My great grandfather fought in WWI. He was gassed under 'friendly fire' (whatever that is. I always thought your mates chucking a shitload of mustard gas in your face was about as friendly as a napalm enema, but there you go) and no hero's welcome was forthcoming. He lived many years as an invalid and died in 1929 when my grandmother, one of eight surviving kids, was thirteen. Apparently my great grandmother tore the flag off his coffin at the funeral and said the widow's pension the government had given her was too little too bloody late.
My grandfather was at Dunkirk and wounded, discharged. He was old for a soldier but wanted to do his bit against Hitler, but after his experience he remained a lifelong pacifist. The song played at his funeral in 1982 was John Lennon's 'Imagine'. Call me a gutless lily livered old liberal, but it's a tragedy that we fail to learn any lessons from the past. Poppies and two minutes silence. For what? Another war.
Dammit, I'm such a maudlin old trollop.
Re:
on 2002-11-10 08:06 am (UTC)But seriously, that story about the flag on the coffin... that's just symbolic of it all, isn't it? I guess it's true - war is hell.
My grandfather was in the Indian Army - he served his entire life, took the land the army gave him, built a house, settled down with his family, and died a month later from a routine stomach complaint.
Ick. Life sucks.