For once, I am at a loss for words when I contemplate ANZAC day, and everything it means for me. Too many people good people die, all the time, for all the wrong reasons. And even when the reasons are right, the cost is still so fearsome. So we all really need to value what we have, and how we got it.
Today is a day of stories. It is a day of remembrance. For those too young to have memories, listen to the stories and reflect.
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"Lest we forget". Every year, at this time, and November 11, these words are mouthed as platitudes.
ReplyDeleteOf course we forget. If we didn't forget from one war to the next the absolute horror of war, then war would be no more.
We forget the maimed, hide them out of site,while we "honour" the dead.
We forget the misery and agony of war as we rush offf to the next one.
And who, taday of all days, gave a moment's thought to those poor souls, so traumatised by war that they could not carry on, only to be murdered by their own?
Lest we forget? We already have.
Hey Fugley, a very stirring piece of writing. One would almost think you were capable of caring. Not that you have ever demonstrated that on the blogs I've seen you comment on.
ReplyDeleteI'm left with the impression that you could easily avoid war with two little words: "I surrender".
You reckon it works?
Fugley, Span has a post worth reading: ANZAC Spirit
ReplyDeleteFugley, it's not the occasion for revisionism and cynicism.
ReplyDeleteA simple "thank you" for your freedom would have been enough.
kg, who should I thank for my "freedom"?
ReplyDeleteCertainly not the men who died in WW1, as that war was about trade and empire, nothing to do with freedom at all, and it is WW1 that kicked off the whole ANZAC legend.
Maybe the men of WW2 deserve thanks, and yet, down here in this part of the world, again it was a war about trade and empire - The Great East Asi Co-Prosperity Sphere".
Certainly those who fought and died subsequent to WW2 were not fighting for freedom, unless you count the freedom for capitalism to run rampant as a freedom.
Korea was never about freedom, not even for the koreans.
The Vietnamese were fighting FOR their freedom from Empire; we opposed thier fight.
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack And I lived the free life of the rover.
ReplyDeleteFrom the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.
And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.
And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.
And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.
But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
-Eric Bogle
Not many commenters make me feel nauseous, but you just succeeded.
ReplyDeleteYeah, Eric Bogle would know a lot about honour and courage, from an effing recording studio, wouldn't he?
As much, I suspect, as you would.
Is there any more to you than a naive little jerk who can do no more than recycle leftist pacifist cliches?
Arms liberated Europe.It was force of arms which opened the gates of Buchenwald and Auschwitz, not bloody candlelit "peace vigils".
It was thousands of young men dying on the beaches of Omaha and Juno and Sword and Gold who helped bring the Thousand Year Reich to an end.
It was brave men who faced down the Soviets, day after day, year after year who ended the Soviet dream of world domination.
Ordinary men and women of the Warsaw Ghetto and the Prague Spring who showed what sheer courage in the face of totalitarianism is capable of.
You and you kind, sitting in comfort, sneering and pontificating from the safety of your fucking armchair make me puke.
And if the ad-hominem attack and language get me banned from here, it was cheap at the price.
I'm not advocating everything fugleyhas said, but the following rings very true: "Of course we forget. If we didn't forget from one war to the next the absolute horror of war, then war would be no more."
ReplyDeleteZen - re the 'I surrender' reply. fugley was probably referring to both sides forgetting, not just 'ours'.
Thanks Sean. I think I get the gist of Fugley's angst ridden lament on the horrors of war and all the bad reasons we go through them.
ReplyDeleteIn a perfect world, it wouldn't be necessary of course, so we can criticize all of the mistakes we humans make in getting into the predicaments we do.
And sing soul searching songs that speak from bitter experience.
But at the end of the day, if all it achieves is Fugley taking pot shots at people whose lives supposedly meant nothing because we could have surrendered, then let's think of the millions led to gas chambers, the millions taken out and shot or gassed, the millions who died in Gulags, the millions in places like DRC, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Kosovo
and just wonder if maybe we should have gone to war sooner.
And even if "I surrender" would have saved the millions all those extra people that died and they weren't even real wars, just mindless slaughter,
then a minutes silence and some respect isn't too much to ask for, is it?
Hey KG, KG,
ReplyDeleteWon't you die for me?
I thought ou were just another war mongering plonker, until I saw your shield; then I knew for sure.
Nice Zen; Brutal, but Fu[d]gely gets what it deserves !
ReplyDeleteZen, I don't disagree with what you have said, but the point is that even the so-called aggressors you referred to in your numerous examples are candidates too for remembering the past. I agree with peace-keeping intervention (eg. East Timor, Kosovo, Darfur if it ever happens), and be aware that most wars do not have a clear aggressor/victim situation. I believe you may have misread me, I am not suggesting taking the 'I surrender' approach against a clear murderous maniacs.
ReplyDeleteI'd probably kill for you if the occasion arose.
ReplyDeleteActually I could use one less word in there.