A Place for Peace: Contextualizing Memorial Day

Memorial Day is observed on the last Monday of May. It was formerly known as Decoration Day and commemorates all men and women who have died in military service for the United States. Many people visit cemeteries and memorials on Memorial Day and it is traditionally seen as the start of the summer season.

(timeanddate.com)

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.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing  hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

by John McCrae, May 1915

Here is the story of how the red field poppy came to be known as an internationally recognized symbol of Remembrance. 

From its association with poppies flowering in the spring of 1915 on the battlefields of Belgium, France and Gallipoli this vivid red flower has become synonymous with great loss of life in war.

Yet the scope of the poppy and its connection with the memory of those who have died in war has been expanded to help the living too. It was the inspiration and dedication of two women who promoted this same “Memorial Flower” as the means by which funds could be raised to support those in need of help, most especially servicemen and civilians suffering from physical and mental hardship as a result of war. (http://www.greatwar.co.uk/article/remembrance-poppy.htm)

photo of a poppy at Merry Mount 2017

photo of poppies at Merry Mount 2017

During the final three years of his life, my Dad was in residence at the Ben Atcheley Veteran's Home in Knoxville, Tennessee.  As one walks the halls of this care facility, one is made aware at every door of the service these men and women rendered to the Unites States.  The residents display with pride their allegiance to their country.

I will spend this Memorial Day at Merry Mount, a place of peace and quiet, but if I had been in Knoxville, I would have taken a flag and a bouquet of flowers to Dad's grave and to the Woliver family plots marked by the Woliver headstone.

As I salute our fallen veterans this weekend, as a pacifist, I challenge the notion of nationalism and/or patriotism.  I am not naive.  I recognize that the peace I experience at Merry Mount is to a certain extent due to the sacrifice of human lives defending the freedoms and principles outlined in our nation’s constitution.  But if one seriously considers the history of war, one will find that men and women have often been led by government officials into military skirmishes without due cause.  Sacrifice is defined as "an act of giving up something valued for the sake of something else regarded as more important or worthy".  I, therefore, ask, “What is the price of war?”  Is my peace worth the price of even one American casualty? The answer to these questions is a personal one that each of us should contemplate with all seriousness. Let’s examine the numbers and consider what each war accomplished.

Wars ranked by American combat deaths-Wikipedia

Rank	War	Years	Deaths
1	World War II	1941–45	291,557
2	American Civil War	1861–65	212,938
3	World War I	1917–18	53,402
4	Vietnam War	1955–75	47,424
5	Korean War	1950–53	33,746
6	American Revolutionary War	1775–83	8,000
7	Iraq War/Afghanistan Wars	2001–2014	5,650 [91]
8	War of 1812	1812–15	2,260
9	Mexican–American War	1846–48	1,733
10	Second Seminole War	1835–1842	1,500+

Like most enlistees labeled the “Greatest Generation,” Dad volunteered to join the Navy at age 17 and join his brothers in WWII. His decision was a personal choice. Most Americans would say that our involvement in WII halted the aggressive Japanese and defeated the Nazis whose atrocities were some of the most heinous against mankind.  The cause perhaps equaled the sacrifice.

The Vietnam War accomplished nothing and was misled.  The Korean War was a stalemate, another blunder. The United States launched the Iraqi War under false pretenses, deposed a dictator, but unleashed various religious zealots and jihadists. Lives continue to be lost.

World War I is ranked amount the deadliest wars in human history with the total lose of military and civilian casualties estimated at more than 38 million. At the end, no country won, all was lost, and yet, within less than twenty years, Hitler climbed to power due to societies reluctance to speak out.

In conclusion, I offer a great poem by Wilfred Owen, Dulce et Decorum est.

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen, MC (18 March 1893 – 4 November 1918) was an English poet and soldier, one of the leading poets of the First World War. Owen was killed in action on 4 November 1918 during the crossing of the Sambre–Oise Canal, exactly one week (almost to the hour) before the signing of the Armistice which ended the war, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant the day after his death. His mother received the telegram informing her of his death on Armistice Day, as the church bells were ringing out in celebration.^{[8]-Wikipedia}

 

Wilfred Owen's grave stone

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, 

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, 

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, 

And towards our distant rest began to trudge. 

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, 

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; 

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots 

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. 

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling 

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, 

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling 

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, 

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. 

In all my dreams before my helpless sight, 

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. 

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace 

Behind the wagon that we flung him in, 

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, 

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; 

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood 

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, 

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud 

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— 

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 

To children ardent for some desperate glory, 

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.*

*Latin phrase is from Roman poet Horace: “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country”

As we honor the fallen today, let us not forget that each of us has a right and responsibility to stand up for or against the call to arms.

CPW