A Poem by Siegrfried Sassoon for Memorial Day

Burying the dead at Somme (public domain)

World War I reminds us how quickly nationalism, alliances, propaganda, and political miscalculation can pull nations into catastrophe. Leaders expected a short war; instead it became industrialized slaughter. The conflict also showed how media narratives and public emotion can overpower caution, creating momentum toward war before societies fully understand the consequences.

The war produced many writers and poets of significance. Siegfried Sassoon was one of these, one of the more powerful poetic voices to emerge from the "War to End All Wars." Sassoon rejected the patriotic romanticism common in wartime verse, writing with brutal honesty about trench warfare, exposing its fear, suffering, and senseless waste. His poems often attacked the blindness of political and military leaders while expressing deep compassion for ordinary soldiers trapped in the nightmare of war.

To put Sassoon's writing in perspective, he was a Lieutenant at the Battle of Somme who witnessed this horror firsthand. On the first day of the Battle of the Somme (July 1, 1916), 19,240 British soldiers were killed. This remains the bloodiest single day in the history of the British Army. The total British casualties that day—including those who were wounded, captured, or went missing—reached 57,470.

During the Battle of the Somme (July–November 1916), the British and Imperial forces suffered approximately 420,000 casualties, of which historians estimate around 125,000 to 150,000 were fatalities. This is two to three times the number of Americans who died over a span of ten years in Vietnam.

Here is Siegfried Sassoon's poem Attack.

Attack

At dawn the ridge emerges massed and dun 

In the wild purple of the glow'ring sun, 

Smouldering through spouts of drifting smoke that shroud 

The menacing scarred slope; and, one by one, 

Tanks creep and topple forward to the wire. 

The barrage roars and lifts. Then, clumsily bowed 

With bombs and guns and shovels and battle-gear, 

Men jostle and climb to meet the bristling fire. 

Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear, 

They leave their trenches, going over the top, 

While time ticks blank and busy on their wrists, 

And hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists, 

Flounders in mud. O Jesu, make it stop!

Copyright Credit: Siegfried Sassoon, “Attack” from Counter-attack: And Other Poems. New York: E.P. Dutton & Company, 1918. Public domain.

Source: Counter-attack: And Other Poems (E.P. Dutton & Company, 1918)

Memorial Day: Remembering the Sacrifices of Those Who Served

Skyline Drive is a favorite stretch of road going west from 

Twin Ponds here in Duluth. Each year I see the flags placed on 

the graves at this cemetery for Memorial Day. This is the first 

time I have stopped to walk quietly in their midst.

Related Link

8 Things You May Not Know About Memorial Day

Lies, Lies and More Lies: No Wonder Baby Boomers Have Such a Distrust of Authority

More Notes from Ken Burns' The Vietnam War.

Just as the French underestimated the enemy at Dien Bien Phu, so did the U.S. consistently underestimate the enemy's strength and resolve. Even when we knew it was a mistake to get more deeply involved, we barged ahead anyways.* And all throughout we attempted to conceal from the American public what we were up to.

At first, we only sent advisors. Inconsequential results.
Next, we sent more advisors. Because President Johnson didn't want this fact known to the American people, it was done without fanfare, quietly and unobserved.
Next we sent troops. "They won't fight," they said, but would just stay in the background. Even so, the president didn't want this fact known to the American people.
Next, we're sending still more troops, this time to fight. Again, the president didn't want this fact known to the American people and it was hoped no one would notice.
Even as our involvement mounted, we were losing the war. "Gotta send more troops," went the cry. Simultaneously and privately, "Better not let the American people find out."

As the war went on, it became increasingly necessary to step up our response. It's hard to send 100,000 and 300,000 and 500,000 young men to potentially die without someone eventually noticing at home.

Karl Marlantes: "My bitterness about the political powers at the time was, first of all, the lying." I can understand policy errors and mistakes, if made with noble hearts. "That McNamara knew in 1965, three years before I was there that the war was unwinnable, that's what makes me mad."

Making mistakes is one thing, Marlantes said. Covering them up is "simply killing people to protect your own ego."

It's a famous joke, but so frequently true that it's become cliche. "How can you tell a politician is lying? His lips are moving."

LBJ kept telling people we're all about peace. Simultaneously, we start bombing villages with napalm.

Once LBJ bailed and Nixon took the White House, the same game continued. Tell the people what they want to hear and do what you want to do.

"I have a plan for getting us out of Vietnam," Nixon said. He concealed the truth that his plan was to win the war, which was already proven unwinnable.

According to Albert Einstein the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result.

I like the refrain for "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?"  It goes like this: "When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?"

I am sad for our veterans who lost their lives in this meaningless conflict, and for those who have struggled with lifelong disabilities. Trivia: More than 200 journalists died covering the war.

* According to a recent New Yorker story on Kissinger, he knew the war was unwinnable as early as 1965.

Bison Heart and Other Delights

I feel pity for people who refuse to try something new. We're talking food here, but it could be applied to a wide variety of other experiences. On Memorial Day, a day in which people are often having cookouts and spending time with friends or family, it seemed like a good moment to share my bison heart adventure.

Last week I had a new experience that proved absolutely dazzling for my tongue. My son, who makes a living in the culinary trades, prepared a meal of pan seared bison heart, crab cakes, asparagus and ramp puree and bearnaise, with a salad of jumbo lump crab, asparagus, orange and upland cress with a citrus vinaigrette.

I'll admit I was bit insecure beforehand, but the explosion of flavors that tantalized my taste buds created a sense of sensory awe. Savoring every bite followed.

Just wanted to share it with someone, so I shared it with you.

* * * *
This afternoon, weather permitting, there will be some grilling, though I'm not yet sure what's on the menu as Chef Micah did the shopping yesterday. Meantime, here are some photos from other recent meals.

Preparing the crab cakes.

I always enjoy watching the prep work.

Care for some salad? Yumm. 

How about an appetizer?

English celebrity chef Jamie Oliver said, "What I've enjoyed most, though, is meeting people who have a real interest in food and sharing ideas with them. Good food is a global thing and I find that there is always something new and amazing to learn - I love it!" That seems to be what all the world's chefs seem to be doing these days.

As I see it, what's happening in the culinary field is similar to the Paris fashion scene works. Styles begin on the Runway and filter down to the masses through the Maurice's and Kohl's and Targets. In the same way, the culinary secrets that were once the domain of the elite are being shared with an increasingly broad audience. We're all beneficiaries.

Well, I'd better go make my breakfast. My mouth is watering.

69 + 4

Big weekend ahead. Got plans? Here are some suggestions, assuming that you're not heading off to hibernate at your cabin on the lake.

14th Annual Battle of the Jugbands
Produced by Icehouse Studio, Coho Handcream for Men and De Elliot Bros., the Battle is this Sunday May 30th from 1:00 - 8:00 p.m. The Battle of the Jugbands is held in Duluth each Memorial Weekend Sunday. In years past, eight to ten regional bands have shown up, celebrating seven hours of old time down-home, string band roots music. It is also a competition as they vie for the Coveted Yid-wegian Krumkake Iron. As you might imagine, some of it is quite over-the-top. Unique homemade instruments are shown and played, audience participation encouraged. Check it out at the Amazing Grace Cafe, downstairs in the DeWitt-Seitz Building, Canal Park. For a foretaste, check out these scenes from last year.

Pre-Show Jugband Escape
Tomorrow night, de Elliot Bros. will be performing at Amazing Grace from 7:00 to 10:00 in a pre-battle performance. If you like good music, and can't make it Sunday for the annual hoopla, then stop in Saturday evening. Maybe you'll even want to participate. I believe the stage is open.

Dylan Days
The only acceptable excuse for not joining us at Amazing Grace is because you went up to Dylan Days, which officially began yesterday in Hibbing, MN, Bob Dylan's hometown. Poetry readings, a writing contest, all kinds of music, bus tours and other distractions make for a great destination, if you're even remotely a Dylan fan or music lover. Get the whole story and weekend schedule here at http://www.dylandays.com/

Indianapolis 500
For me, Memorial Day Weekend used to mean only one thing: I was not going to church that Sunday because I was going to watch all the pre-race interviews and opening ceremonies for the Indianapolis 500. My Indy 500 weekend always begins when I pick up Friday's USA Today in order to obtain the special Indy 500 racing coverage, with starting grid, profiles of the drivers and the latest dope on all the backstage gossip. This year's stories include a first time four women drivers, though the way the Penske team is racing, these ladies will have to get seriously lucky to have even the remotest chance. (Ana, Simona and Danica are my sentimental favorites.) So, if you have an ear for music but like the action in Indy, do what I often do... check out the Battle of the Jugbands at Amazing Grace, then slip across the street to Grandma's Sports Garden for a brew and a bit o' big screen TV. See if you can catch Danica Patrick in her neon green Go Daddy machine. Prediction: Will Power will set the pace.... and will drink the milk in the winner's circle. And for the record, the average lap speed these days for drivers in the front row is over 227 miles per hour.

Open House at The Historic Armory
In the event that you're not a racing fan, but you are a Dylan fan, but you can't make it to Hibbing for Dylan Days, Sunday there will be an open house at the Armory from 2:00 to 4:00 p.m. during the 500 and the Battle of the Jugbands. Not sure how I will fit it all in, but I'll give it my best shot.

"Meantime life goes on all around you." ~ Dylan

A Memorial Day Reflection

Do you remember when we used to celebrate Lincoln’s Birthday on February 12 and Washington’s on the 22nd? Memorial Day was May 30th in those days. All those midweek holidays were a bit disruptive and the two presidents are remembered on President’s Day, the 3rd Monday in February, and Memorial Day, today, is the last Monday in May.

The origin of Memorial Day goes back to the brutally bloody Civil War. Many communities set aside a day to mark the end of the war as a memorial to those who had died. Originally called Decoration Day (to decorate the graves of the fallen) the name was changed to Memorial Day in 1882. The holiday took on greater significance after World War II, another all-encompassing war that left few untouched or unmoved.

Setting aside a day for remembering has value because some things are too important to be forgotten.

My father-in-law, who served in World War II, eventually wrote a book about his experiences. Bud Wagner was on the first ship to Europe and served for the duration of the war, capturing details, images and keen personal observations that I doubt one can find anywhere.

Here's an excerpt from the introduction.

I began keeping a diary when I was quite young. I have many small books with short entries, and at the time I registered for the Draft in October 1940, when I was 22, I was closing the 5th year in a leather-bound 5-year diary.

I didn't even consider stopping with my diary because of my draft status, and I decided that in addition, I would keep a small camera with me at all times I possibly could during my Army service. My intention was to keep all my Army time on record to the best of my ability. On the front page of the 5-year diary I had written the Chinese proverb: "The faintest ink is better than the strongest memory."

There were many times during my Army career when I couldn't make my diary entries on the day they occurred. Days and nights would often run together when we were on the move, and dates were unimportant to me at the time.

Another reason I sometimes couldn't make daily entries is that for security reasons, I tried to keep my diary to myself. There were probably only three close friends who knew I was keeping it. I always carried it in my shirt pocket, and towards the end of the War it was getting to be quite a bulky burden. If I hadn't sent a part of it home before leaving Ireland, I wouldn't have been able to carry it all on my person.

Some of the problems I faced in writing it were (1) no light at night, (2) difficulty in getting ink, and (3) the fact that I didn't even have a real diary at times, but only small notebooks to write in.

There were times when I couldn't get away by myself that I would make believe I was writing a letter -- when actually I was trying to recollect and put in writing what had happened to me during the previous days or sometimes the previous week.

After I returned home in July 1945, the diaries were put into a drawer, moved with me several times, and were all but forgotten until about 1975 when our family was all together one Sunday afternoon. The talk turned to my Army life, and when I mentioned the diaries, everyone wanted to see them.

One of our sons-in-law, Ed Newman, a writer, thought there was potential in it for short stories, a journal, or a book. Our other son-in-law Harrold Andresen, a mechanic, was interested in all the mechanical work that had to be done to the vehicles. Our son, Lloyd, had heard some things about what I had written, and had been studying American and European history, including that of the World Wars, so he was very interested as well.

When Bud turned 79, he called me on the phone and said, “Eddie, I want you to take me to the store tonight to buy a computer. I’m ready to write my book.”

Whoever said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks was definitely mistaken. Bud had been assembling his research for a lifetime and was eager to prepare a manuscript. It was a major undertaking, but one could see the determination there. He also had help with preparing the polished version. His son Lloyd, my brother-in-law, did the “heavy lifting” as regards editing and organizing photos, etc. I did a measure of copy editing. And ultimately, an incredible book was produced called And There Shall Be Wars, a reference to Mark 13:7 in which Jesus said, “And when ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars, be ye not troubled; for such things must needs be, but the end shall not be yet.”

To purchase your own copy of the book, Bud Wagner's diaries and memoirs of World War Two send an email to ennyman3@gmail.com or visit the Hermantown Historical Society.

This year Wilmer A. "Bud" Wagner turns ninety and he has been looking forward to that 90th birthday party coming up soon. We may have a few surprises for him. For sure I will be returning to this topic again over the next couple weeks.

In the meantime, let us remember all who sacrificed so much to preserve the freedoms we enjoy.