Saturday, November 01, 2008
Passchendaele
This movie bothers me. It hits me in a place I haven't wanted to go in myself for a long time. I used to be a warmonger before I understood war. Before I understood that war wasn't about conquering or owning territory but about real people killing each other en masse on a battlefield. I used to be the kind of person who would start and continue wars to further my personal goals. And now I hate that part of me that was like that.
The men who went to this war weren't heroes. They were ordinary men afraid of bombs and bullets and dieing and everything that frightens people who didn't go to war. They felt remorse and hate and fear for their mortal souls. They didn't have widely sweeping romantic moments of passion in the arms of their lovers. They had dirty, tawdry, cheap, rushed moments in change shacks. And they were happy to get them.
They had no idea that people would hold their service in such high regard this many years later nor would they have cared much if they did. They justified their existence in their time and place with semi-philosophical meanderings and shaky logic. Soldiers need to know that what they're doing is right or purposeful in some way or they would lose their minds and give up. They are given a weapon and ammunition and they wake up every day knowing that they may have to kill the enemy that day. The psychological toll is unfathomable for people who haven't been there.
I cannot connect to the part of me that once felt war was about commanding armies and conquering kingdoms. I still enjoy the challenge of the simulation of such events like a puzzle or strategy game but I am immediately revulsed with the thought of it happening in real life. The slaughter of soldiers and the subjugation of people is something I cannot support or participate in. Only so many things can be justified in the defense of a homeland or a way of life. I hope to live long enough to see a day when the rest of the world sees this too.
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The men who went to this war weren't heroes. They were ordinary men afraid of bombs and bullets and dieing and everything that frightens people who didn't go to war. They felt remorse and hate and fear for their mortal souls. They didn't have widely sweeping romantic moments of passion in the arms of their lovers. They had dirty, tawdry, cheap, rushed moments in change shacks. And they were happy to get them.
They had no idea that people would hold their service in such high regard this many years later nor would they have cared much if they did. They justified their existence in their time and place with semi-philosophical meanderings and shaky logic. Soldiers need to know that what they're doing is right or purposeful in some way or they would lose their minds and give up. They are given a weapon and ammunition and they wake up every day knowing that they may have to kill the enemy that day. The psychological toll is unfathomable for people who haven't been there.
I cannot connect to the part of me that once felt war was about commanding armies and conquering kingdoms. I still enjoy the challenge of the simulation of such events like a puzzle or strategy game but I am immediately revulsed with the thought of it happening in real life. The slaughter of soldiers and the subjugation of people is something I cannot support or participate in. Only so many things can be justified in the defense of a homeland or a way of life. I hope to live long enough to see a day when the rest of the world sees this too.
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