My third Concept blog is about military poems. I feel poems about military experiences are genuine, true pictures of the circumstances experienced by people brave enough to express the misfortune of war. I was deeply disturbed when I read Wilfred Owen 's poem DULCE ET DECORUM EST, it was beautiful, yet emotionally touching. The poem was written by a military soldier during World War I, he demonstrates the fear and realization of what is really happening to our young military lives. The poem expresses fear and enlightening which also haunts his dreams clearly influenced by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He states toward the end of the poem 'Dulce et Decorum est Pro Mori', which means it is sweet and right to die for your country. The poem is one of many written called "war poems"most popular during WWI. Wilfred's previous poems were different compared to the poems he wrote about during the war. Influenced by his doctor to write about his experiences and nightmares, his poems draw pictures of mental anguish for those who were not involved with the war, and comprehensive details for those that had been touched by the pain of war.
His poem unfortunately sounds a lot like the poems written about any war since WWI. Young soldiers fighting over seas, at home and for freedom some do not even understand. Expressing fear and loneliness like this Vietnam war poem. Poems are a way to express feelings you sometimes can not put to words through speaking. There are many examples of soldiers crying out for help through poetry. This poem seems to have the same pattern as the one written during WWI. Scared young men expressing their experience on paper. So much emotion expressed for so many military lives.
The sun burns down with scorching breath As trudging men seek out their death
Which lies ahead. In single file They hump the jungle, mile on mile
In halting, cautious tread. The fuzz-cheeked leader up ahead
Guides them on. The heavy packs Rub and chafe their aching backs
Which lies ahead. In single file They hump the jungle, mile on mile
In halting, cautious tread. The fuzz-cheeked leader up ahead
Guides them on. The heavy packs Rub and chafe their aching backs
The wet boots suck from clinging mud And rub great blisters full of blood
On swollen feet. The thrill is gone!
On swollen feet. The thrill is gone!
War no one wants to be in it, and no one wants to talk about it. Yet war seems to always be present some where. The generations of poem writing about war has a familiar ring to it indeed, what soldiers see and feel have not changed, the faces may be different, uniform may have evolved, but war remains the same. We are more aware of PTSD now involving young men and women, because there is so many with it returning from battles. Military equipment changes, but still lives are broken, and displaced. War becomes news, topic of discussion at offices, different branches of military men and women are deployed across the sea, parents raise children to fight for our country.
Dulce et decorum est pro Patria Mori....it is sweet and right to die for your country............Times haven't changed much when it comes to war.
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