No one Wins a war, we are never the same after

If ye break faith with us who die, we shall not sleep

Photo by Duncan Kidd on Unsplash

By N. Invictus (an anonymous Canadian teacher)

On the eleventh hour of this historic day that marks the end of the First World War, all around our country and the world we stand attentively to pay respect, to remember, and never forget those who sacrificed their lives and paved the path to the peace that some of us now enjoy. The peace, which we often take for granted as we go about our busy lives, sweating over minor issues, quarrelling with our loved ones over trivial matters, and getting agitated over the time it takes for the red light to turn green.

No nation is immune to waking up and finding itself attacked or entangled in a war. I am one of those who, at the age of 11, woke up on a school day to the news of the beginning of an 8-year war in my home country. I still went to school like everyone else as life went on, as it always does. Other countries picked sides; some supplied the 'at the time' enemy with chemical weapons. Ironically, those same countries offered medical services to our injured soldiers after the war ended, only to discover that the chemical weapons they had supplied to the other side had caused terminal cancer in our injured soldiers! War is a nasty business.

I grew up, graduated, and went to university—I was one of the lucky ones. Throughout those years, blackouts persisted, bombings did not cease, lives were lost, cities were destroyed, sanctions were imposed, food became scarce, and heating was a rarity. Despite it all, the military-industrial complex had once again gained its unwarranted influence (as warned by Eisenhower in his farewell address), but we carried on. As long as there is life, there is hope.

However, nothing was ever the same. It still isn't, and it will never be. The lives we lead, the plans we make, and the freedom we cherish have been granted by those who chose to serve. They chose us over themselves.

Be warned that the two words "us" and "them," when misplaced, ignite all sorts of conflicts—cultural, racial, you name it (as we are evidently experiencing)—and inevitably lead to battlefield wars. We cannot afford to take lightly the sacrifice of those who put their lives on the line so we could have ours. The cost would be the loss of our humanity. If this does not wake us up, I am not sure what would!

Look around—among us, our friends, families, and neighbours—there is someone whose life has been touched, altered, and shattered by war. They may have lost someone or many, or they may know of those who have. The pain and sorrow hurt us, break us, change us, and shape us. They make us tougher and yet kinder, stern and yet more forgiving, resilient and yet more sensitive. 

We are never the same.

There are no winners in a war. Wars only end in favor of one side and leave people, families, homes, and nations devastated—crushed, in ruins, torn apart, broken, and never the same. Yet, it seems that our species, with all our moral values, our faith in a higher being, our drive towards virtues, and our striving to appreciate humanity, keeps finding ourselves engaged in all sorts of vicious, deplorable wars. We never seem to learn from the previous ones, never remember what war does to us and to them.

As there should not be 'us' and 'them'.

The innocent civilians, whose livelihoods are destroyed, and whose loved ones are killed, injured, and captured, suffer as victims. Regardless of your stance on their beliefs or culture, they are our fellow humans with hearts that beat, babies to feed, and dreams they hope would come true. Alas, they are treated as commodities; we, not they, are deemed disposable. Behind the scenes, the powers that be play the nasty game of war, moving the pawns and manipulating the stock of the arms industry.

We will never be the same.

Those who serve to protect face an even graver burden. Our veterans, who chose to put their lives on the line to safeguard ours, were also tasked with taking the lives of the enemy, the intruder, the demon, the villain—another human. It is not an easy undertaking. For those who are willing to sacrifice their lives to save others, to then look at the other side and shoot and attack another human being, to pull the lever that drops the bomb, to aim at planes in the sky, to have no alternative but to leave the wounded behind, it comes with profound emotional strain. An injury and infliction not necessarily visible to our eyes—a sense that haunts them forever and ever. They may never fully recover.

They will never be the same.

Proud as they should be of their courage to face the enemy and defy death bravely, they have witnessed things that no human should have to see, done things that no one should be forced to do, and made decisions that torment them day and even more so at night. If only we lived in a world free of 'us' and 'them,' free of greed. If only we would collectively reject tyranny, eliminate divides, and bridge our differences without creating new, self-imposed, and artificial divisions that inevitably lead to further fragmentation until we are reduced to nothing but dust. If we were defined by our shared humanity. If we could see beyond our immutable differences. If we had the wisdom to understand that who we are is not defined by our appearances, desires, impulses, sense of righteousness, victimhood, or hypothetical historical atrocities. If we look inside and see that our bodies will die, we will decay, vanish, return to the very soil that birthed us, and realize that who we are is what we leave behind – our mark, our impact, our souls.

If only we were not intolerant towards tolerance. 

No father should have to bury his son, no mother should have tear-filled eyes on the door until her last breath, hoping for her lost one to knock again – as was the case with my mother’s friend, whose son, a young physician, was sent to war to save lives, never to be seen again. No child should have to learn that their parents will never come home, no child should learn that there is no home anymore. No preteen should have to get trained to use war weapons, in case there will be no standing man left to defend their homeland. I did, and so did many others. No sister should go to the school named after her four young brothers who lost their lives serving in the stupid war. She was my classmate, and I went to that school every day, reading the names of her brothers above the entrance.

When would we ever learn? When would we ever stop? How many fields should be carpeted with poppies, and how many red tulips should grow from the blood of the young ones - as it is said in Farsi. Year after year, these flowers bloom and sway across our world, as those who lost their lives in these dreadful wars lie beneath, bearing witness to the madness they intended to stop, repeating again and again.

Let us never forget those who left and never returned, those who returned but were never the same, and those who cared for the ones left behind—lonely, longing for one more smile, one more kiss, and only holding on to the memories of the peaceful past of feeling the dawn and seeing the glow of sunset. Let us keep faith with those who passed their torch for us to hold up high, so they can sleep. (In Flanders Fields)

Without them, we would not be here; without them, we would not be free, nor would we have hope. Without them, our world would perish. Without them there would be no ‘us’, as there is no ‘them’, it is only ‘us’.

May God bless our souls, and may we always, always remember.

___

Thanks for reading. For more from this author, read The Pathological Pretentious Performance of Acknowledgements

Also, for more evidence of the ideological indoctrination in Canadian education, read Yes, schools are indoctrinating kids! And also, Yes, The University is an Indoctrination Camp!

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