It’s the hundredth anniversary of the First World War (what kind of monster called it ‘The Great War’?).
I’ve been getting increasingly annoyed by assorted Imperialists and war mongers who have been glorifying and celebrating this tragedy which murdered so many and ultimately gave us the second world war as well.
I don’t think I am anymore capable of writing the kind of historical critique that such a wasteful and pointless expression of mass murder needs– I have battles of my own to fight.
But occasionally I may publish some of the songs and poetry and a few biographies from that time just to show that there was another way of looking at things.
Suicide in the Trenches (1917)
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
(a don’t stop till you drop production)Home: helpmesortoutstpeters.blogspot.com