WWI Museum

[The Barbarian]

 

[Jeff1548 48]

Good shot.....

 

[Space Face]

Love it. Lest we forget.

Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori.

 

[The Barbarian]

Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori

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.
Wilfred Owen

That was a horrible, vicious war, worse than the second as far as troop fatalities and crippling injuries went.

 

[Space Face]

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.
Wilfred Owen

That was a horrible, vicious war, worse than the second as far as troop fatalities and crippling injuries went.

Yeah, I have a strong affection for WW1 (if affection is the right term). Studied it in both English and History at school for my final exams and that horror and sadness has never left me.

 

[The Barbarian]

The conical structure on the right is that of a sphinx covering its face with its wings. An expression of horror and grief, I think.

 

[jeffashman10 1]

Nice shot. So sad that humanity shows its worst at war.

 

[cgw117 142]

Watch "1917" and especially Peter Jackson's "They Shall Not Grow Old." Paul Fussell's classic "The Great War and Modern Memory," Denis Miller's "Death's Men," and Modris Ekstein's "The Rites of Spring: The Great War and the Birth of the Modern Age are older but valid and still worth a look.