All This Fighting
And for what?
“To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations…”
- President Wilson, November 1919
11-11-11. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. Cease fire, chaps. Set down thy arms. This bloody war is killing us.
Not everyone received the memo. In fact, on 11 November 1918, after the armistice went into effect, 11,000 soldiers were either killed, injured or went missing. Of these, 3,500 were American troops. Later, Lt. Gen. Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Forces, had to attempt to explain to Congress how this occurred given such an advance knowledge of the armistice agreement. “Well, we were getting shot at.”
It would appear not much has changed when it comes to comprehending a war front from the hallowed halls of decision makers versus a commander in a trench at the front. It’s not enough to put one’s life on the line - you then have to explain your actions to someone, who, after arising from the comfort of their own bed and sipping their tea by a warm fireside, thought you didn’t unload fast enough.
But thank God for commanders who understand the bloody reality of war, and thank God for our troops, who brazenly follow orders in the face of death and uncertainty. These are events the average person may never experience, and thankfully so. The setting aside of personal security, freedom and desire for the greater cause of national security, freedom and the triumph over tyranny. To fly, drive or step into the hot zone in defense of liberty. There is nothing in the world that comes as close to perfect sacrifice as that of a soldier for their country. For this we should all be profoundly grateful.
So every year we take this day - with its poppies and ghosts, its bloody beaches and defoliated jungles, its glassy sands and decimated villages, to honor those who stepped forward and stepped up, willingly or unwillingly, in service of their country, to give their very all. To the dead, in their ultimate sacrifice, and to the living - uniforms mothballed and medals in desk drawers - who will carry the war with them until their last breath.
It is always easier to pick up arms than to lay them down. Once the firing starts, the concussion of shells permanently alters the hearing, the visual field is indelibly stained red, the literal loss of life and limb irretrievable except in the memories of those who were there. And yet, what would be the alternative? Peace whatever the cost? Let the tyrants tyrant and evil flourish? (As if they never killed anybody.) Nay. Regardless of the risk and the sacrifice, we fight the good fight. For our country, for our children, for our tomorrow. For our love of life and liberty. May we always keep Peace through Strength.
And for this, every one of us in this beautiful nation is indebted to our soldiers, for their defense of our freedoms, our Constitution, and our God-given rights.
May we all remember this each and every day, and live accordingly.