Of Those Who Have Fallen

As regular readers may know, I don’t usually publish anything on this blog that isn’t cat-related. The big holidays – Christmas and Easter – are exceptions, as is New Year’s, as that is a significant change chronologically, if in no other way. But I feel I should acknowledge Remembrance Day, as well.

As a reader of military history, especially those histories that are very detailed or which are memoirs, I tend to think a great deal about the efforts and sacrifices of those who went to war. Those who do so, go for a great many reasons, of course; not all of them are, it must be admitted, altruistic. Indeed, many regulars join up to learn a trade or simply to have a good job; this was often the case in the old days, when poverty was the only other option. No doubt they, like every other sane person, hoped that they would never have to put their training to practical use.

There were as many motives for going into combat, of course, as there were men in uniform. I recently watched a film called Appointment in London, in which the principal character, when asked why he wanted to fulfill a 90-mission ambition with Bomber Command, stated that he was afraid others would think him fearful if he didn’t. Then he added that that was ‘the usual’ thing that is said. It was probably true in many cases. He then stated that he was doing it because he’d told so many people he would that he couldn’t back out. That was probably true in many cases, as well.

From what I’ve read, soldiers, sailors and airmen go into battle for their beliefs, their regiments, their comrades, their countries, their families, and every other reason under the sun and stars. Some go because it’s easier than not going.

Yet what I find astounding, what I find moving, is that when it came down to it, almost every one of them went forward into mortal danger of their own accord. If the majority had decided not to, there would have been little those in authority could have done about it, as has been shown at some points in history. But these men made a conscious decision to put one foot in front of another and step into what may have been their final minutes.

Was it bravery, was it foolishness, was it vainglory? It doesn’t matter. They did it, and for many it was the last thing they did. And because they did it, I can agree or disagree with anyone or everyone without fear of reprisal. I can worship as I like or not at all. I can protest peacefully and I can tell those in power I dislike them and their ways. I can read what I want, go where I want. Whether or not I manifest my conscience is a matter of my own trepidation or concern, not of the dictates of arbitrary authority.

For this freedom, I thank all of them, the brave and the frightened, the lazy and the dutiful, the honest men and the connivers, the family men and the loners, those with everything ahead of them and those with nothing to lose. Because of them, I sleep in peace.