Anzac Day: forgetting lest and going undercover ::

My grandfather served in the Second World War as an engineer. I thought, all my young life, that he observed the passage of Anzac Day with some solemnity. Turns out he didn’t observe it at all. Abhorred the thing, actually. His chief critique was similar to one Wilfred Owen leveled at war propaganda in his … Continue reading Anzac Day: forgetting lest and going undercover ::

Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) ::

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 … Continue reading Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) ::