“I knew a simple soldier boy”
Reflections
“Siegfried Sassoon was an English soldier during World War I. Born into a wealthy Jewish family, before the war Siegfried lived the life of a member of the landed gentry…While fighting the war he was decorated for bravery because of his actions on the Western Front. He also became severely depressed as he came to terms with what war was like,” says The Very Rev’d Dr Peter Catt
Please be aware that this reflection may be distressing for some readers.
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
“Suicide In The Trenches“ by Siegfried Sassoon,
The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back
‘They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought
‘In a just cause: they lead the last attack
‘On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought
‘New right to breed an honourable race,
‘They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.’
‘We’re none of us the same!’ the boys reply.
‘For George lost both his legs; and Bill’s stone blind;
‘Poor Jim’s shot through the lungs and like to die;
‘And Bert’s gone syphilitic: you’ll not find
‘A chap who’s served that hasn’t found some change.
‘And the Bishop said: ‘The ways of God are strange!’
“They” by Siegfried Sassoon
Siegfried Sassoon was an English soldier during World War I. Born into a wealthy Jewish family, before the war Siegfried lived the life of a member of the landed gentry: fox-hunting, playing cricket and golf, and writing romantic verse.
While fighting the war he was decorated for bravery because of his actions on the Western Front. He also became severely depressed as he came to terms with what war was like in actuality compared to the jingoistic descriptions that were being peddled back home. In 1917 he wrote a Soldier’s Declaration that called for an end to the war. The authorities responded by placing him in a hospital for the mentally ill.
His poetry not only describes the horrors of what he saw in the trenches, but also uses satire to bring to the light the disconnect between what he was observing and the romanticised versions of the war that were peddled at home. To this end, in “Suicide in the Trenches” he takes aim at the smug-faced crowds who attend military parades and in “They”, the bishops of the Church of England who used religious language to justify and glorify the war and made no efforts to bring it to an end.
When I was young, the main speaker at Anzac Day commemorations in my hometown was a World War I veteran who told us that the day had two purposes. Firstly, it was day for him to remember his mates and for us to support him in that process. And secondly, it was a day for the rest of us to heed his call that there should never be another war. It was a day for promoting peace-making because war was too costly an affair to consider as an option.
For the first half of my life our nation heeded the Anzac Day call to be peacemakers and more often than not our soldiers went into theatres of war to be part of peace-keeping missions.
Since the turn of the century, however, it seems to me, our behaviour has pivoted and we have become one of the first nations, and are often among the only nation to turn up to a number of wars.
It also seems to me that Anzac commemorations have become more jingoistic and have been used to promote nationalism instead of peace-making.
So as Anzac Day rolls around once more I pray that the day will reflect the desire of that War World I guy who used to address our hometown commemorations. And I pray that those who turn out to honour Anzac Day will also find themselves at the rallies and events that are calling for peace in our time.
First published in the Cathedral Precinct eNews on 22 April 2024.
Immediate support is available for those who may be distressed by phoning Lifeline 13 11 14; for Veterans and Families from Open Arms 1800 011 046; and, in a crisis call 000.
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