Kandahar falls. The news makes me sad.

In Vict’ry the Generals, statesfolx, and politicos get promoted, fete’d, fawned over, bemedalled and bedecked with honors, write books with massive advances, and enjoy cushy retirements and high-paying second careers as “warfighting experts”, while the soldiers get a parade, some free beers, and hassled by the VA C&B folk, then get to fade away to the VFWs, nursing the PTSD, creaking joints, and a fading indifference, committing suicide, until the next “Great Personage” has a Grand Idea! “War-War is better than Jaw-Jaw! Follow those guys to Glory for Me, there’s a Good Lad!”

In Modern America, In defeat, the Generals, statesfolx, and politicos are promoted, fete’d, fawned over, bemedalled and bedecked with honors, write books with massive advances and enjoy cushy retirements and high-paying second careers as “warlosing experts” while the soldiers get some free beers (offered by their veteran predecessors) and hassled by the VA C&B folk, and get to fade away to the VFWs, nursing the PTSD, achey creaking joints, NSAID-ravaged kidneys, and a fading indifference, committing suicide, until the next “Great Personage” has a Grand Idea! “War-War is better than Jaw-Jaw! Follow those guys to Glory for Me

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, there’s a Good Lad!”

Dulce et Decorum Est
BY WILFRED OWEN
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.

Published by The Armorer

A grumpy old Cincinnatus who feeds goats, dogs, cats, ducks, peafowl, a horse, and sundry avians, especially in the winter. From time to time you will see guns. Until such time as the Progressives repeal the 2nd Amendment, everything you see is legal, Federal, State, Local, where I live. Your progressive paradise may have different rules. Don't project them onto me. Federalism still exists, even if it is but a shadow of what the Framers intended.

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2 Comments

  1. Kabul and the government has fallen as well. The Taliban has already began targeted murders. Bush, alas, was stupid. If he wanted to build nations, he should have divided the land between the northern alliance and the Pashtun. As it stands, the Taliban controls more than they did when we went in.

    FedGov, not to put too fine a point on it, is incompetent, and people like you and I pay the price.

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