Is it glorious to die for your country? It is plain that one would almost unconsciously declare 'YES' in such a manner, that the tone of their voice declares the gratification of their soul. In a room of individuals, every head would bow. In a chorus of declaration, every face would brighten. In an evoked quote, every thought would captivate and absorb each person’s whole being. Into a state of reminisce and delight would each proud American slip into the grip of. Yet, we never question if such a small death in war, can make even a splinter of a difference in the purpose they are fighting for. Does our government formulate instinctive tolerance to death by honor? Are we callused to the meaning and the value of something called life?
Black and white, grey it seems. War is sour. Yet, war is what defines and forms a country, a power, and a people. But is it right? Is it unapproachable? Unapproachable to the individual that knows no death. Is ending a life for a country reasonable? We are so sure in this honorable death. We are so willing to conclude the last notes of our personal song that we don’t stop to think: what for? Life is an on going lesson, an on going verse, chorus, unfinished song. Many have their goal to make sure their song is kept in tune, even when they are gone. To make sure they 'made a difference'. They want their life to really MEAN something. And many think dying for an honorable cause will do it. They let go of what they love, put aside what they enjoy, and died for our freedom. They gave their life.
During the war all soldiers were distressed in some way. Shell shock was an ongoing sickness affecting many soldiers in the trenches. The constant bombardment of mortar shelling became so deafening and repetitive, that the sounds of shelling remained with the soldier even when there was no shelling.
Soldiers soon forgot the sincere beliefs the country had instilled in them before, instead the soldiers just wanted to survive their tour of duty, however long it would be. Death had been experienced and witnessed by the soldiers in a way many of us cannot perceive. The themes had become relative to their daily life on the front. It was then, when face to face with death, that the political beliefs were held irrelevant when trying to survive the war.
The soldiers fought for what THEY believed was right and true. They sacrificed every last earthly article they had to assure our passions and life. They listened through their eyes. They saw the blood, the pain, and the death of young innocent beings. Yet, we keep them silent all these years. We rise up from moments like these, united and as one. Minutes go by as before, but now they carry a sense of wrath, passion, and honor. The word 'hero' lingers in the air. The ones in uniform have every good reason to be mad, but they stand at attention and weep on the inside. Those lucky enough to come home, spared by grace, hold their loved ones close and just whisper: 'You are here tonight.' They take life as a true gift, as the rest of us call it a burden.
Eyes lock, smiles link, and every heart is frayed to the senses of war. Nobody understands it, nobody wants it, and nobody hears it as the soldiers did. They hung on by luck, or it was memories that kept them going. Memories, the one thing love cherishes. Love, the one thing life cherishes. Life, the one thing we cherish.
age = 13-16