Memorial Day, 2014

In two months we will mark the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I, aka the "Great War," aka the "War to End All Wars." (The latter description is now used ironically, because the casualties and destruction of the Second World War dwarfed that of the First.) To be sure, World War I introduced its own horrors, with machine guns, trench warfare, and chemical weapons forever dispelling any romantic notions of armed conflict between nations.

This month also marks the 99th anniversary of the widely known poem, In Flanders Fields. I first heard it 50 years ago when an upperclassman quoted the opening stanza from memory.

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

By 1964 the 20th century was already the bloodiest in history; the Korean War stalemate, the American buildup in Vietnam, and the threat of mutually assured destruction promised a dystopian future--if we had one at all--of continuous war and police states. All Quiet on the Western Front portrayed the recent past, and 1984 and Brave New World the future.

It is with wonder and gratitude that we are still around to reflect on the sadness and beauty of Flanders Fields.

Flanders Fields (U of Texas NROTC photo)