I have always had a fascination to war stories, battles, tactics, and the whole business of war. but like what Solid Snake says in Metal Gear Solid 4, war isn’t pretty. it isn’t what Hollywood wants us to think it is, sending in lone soldiers who willingly take down the world’s evil people and bust people’s guts and balls whilst doing so. war is gritty. war is bloody. war is real.
but to quote Band of Brothers… there was a time when the world asked ordinary people to do extraordinary things. they depended on each other, and the world depended on them.
in the tumultuous times of war, brave men and women stepped up to the plate, to give their time in service of the nation. the bugel call was sounded, and people from all corners of the country came, fulfilling what they saw was their patriotic duty. people felt that the oppression had to be stopped, and instead of talking, they wanted to do something instead. while the possibility of death, injury, capture, or all three were high, it was the price that people were willing to pay to ensure the freedom of the world.
while times may have changed now, with skeptics blaming the war economy and all, let us not forget that even though the politicians fight dirty and with each other, the business is still done on their behalf by the humble soldier. the one that puts on his uniform every morning, the one that paints his face to break up the prominent facial features, the one that comes to stand to at the moment of first light and first dawn, the one facing the oncoming rounds of bullets and rockets. the one who is/was/will be there.
let us not forget the ones that fell before us, for they died in service of the nation. let us not forget that their deaths were not in vain, and that lessons and objectives were gained through the sacrifice of these brave and young men and women.
Australians always say that the birth of the nation was during the Battle of Gallipoli. that the notion of mateship was forged on the rocky peninsula in modern Turkey. to me, the notion of national sacrifice was forged on those hills. where brave men, some as young as 16, came face to face with death. many did not get away from death’s grasp, and some even died through protracted battles and unsanitary conditions, but the experienced shaped the psyche of modern Australia.
Ataturk, the father of modern Turkey, and a commander of the Ottoman troops during the Battle of Gallipoli, sums it up nicely with a saying that can be found at ANZAC Cove….
Those heroes who shed their blood and lost their lives … you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours… You, the mothers who sent their sons from far away countries, wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well.
I echo Ataturk’s call. to remember the fallen, the heroes who gave their lives and blood for the pursuit of an idea. that when somebody dies, it is the death of someones son. and that the pain experienced by a mother through losing her son is universal and transcends all boundaries. every culture has a word/phrase for the said pain. yet, it is comforting to know that your once foes have no accepted you into their bosom, and that the tears are shared. that both sides recognised the incredible sacrifice that both sides had to go through, and whilst not condemning each other by pointing fingers, recognise that the price for peace was paid by these brave young men and women.
we remember the fallen, not because of the ideas that they fought for, but because they sacrificed themselves whilst representing the country. we remember the fallen because if it wasn’t for their bravery and sacrifice, the world might be totally different from the one we live in right now. we remember the fallen.
- They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
- Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
- They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
- They fell with their faces to the foe.
- We will remember them.
- They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
- Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
- At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
lest we forget
war is not pretty
