Poem of the world war, this one

This poem grabbed my attention because it captures the moment, as good poetry does.
It was posted on Facebook by friend and one-time writing professor
John Calderazzo in Colorado. Thanks, John.

"All Quiet on the Western Front" not the remake we expected

Some negative reviews have come in for Netflix's remake of  "All Quiet on the Western Front." They all say the same thing, that the movie is not loyal to the book. That's true -- it leaves out some crucial scenes and adds scenes between the German and French armistice-seekers on the war's closing days. Also, the ending. The famous butterfly ending of the 1930 movie vs. this version which takes its time settling Paul Baumer's life and the armistice. He dies and the camera lingers on his young face, so young and so dead. 

I read Erich Marie Remarque's novel in the sixth grade. It wasn't a class assignment. My father had a massive library and I had a library card as soon as I could walk. Dad's World War II collection was a doozy. "Guadalcanal Diary," Ernie Pyle's "Brave Men," Bill Mauldin's Willie and Joe cartoons, "They Were Expendable," "PT109." He was a WWII veteran, an infantry radioman in France, Belgium, and Germany. He also had World War 1 books, probably because his mother and father both served in that war. I was entranced by the pilots of those rickety old airplanes. I was obsessed with the Lafayette Escadrille and the "The Red Baron" Richthofen's aerial battles. I read all Nordhoff and Hall books, as  both had been pilots in The Great War. I also read their Mutiny on the Bounty trilogy. Even now, I equate their "The Falcons of France" with "Mutiny on the Bounty." Adventure books. Boys' books. They made me yearn to be a fighter pilot and Fletcher Christian. Only in my imagination.

I was a kid and really had no idea what I was reading about any war. As bodies piled up in books, I viewed that as part of the adventure. My viewpoint has changed over the decades. I never went to war, the one of my generation in Vietnam and Cambodia and Laos. I was 18 when I graduated high school in 1969. I never served in the military although I was in the Navy ROTC program for 18 months. I felt guilty about my lack of service for a long time, especially in the 1980s when Reagan told us we had licked the Vietnam Syndrome. I had Viet Vet friends. I had peacenik friends. I read a lot of books about Vietnam. There always some nagging sense that I had missed out on something. How odd that seems now. 

I reread "All Quiet" prior to watching the Netflix movie. I also rewatched the 1930 movie, released just a year after talkies appeared. The book and the movie both cover Paul's recruitment and his leave when he confronts those who were so eager to send him to war. They are at the heart of the book. Paul was subject to "the old lie" in Wilfred Owens' poem, "Dulce et Decorum Est." After recounting the deadly effects of a gas attack, Owen ends his poem with this:

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest/To children ardent for some desperate glory/The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est/Pro patria mori.

That sentiment appears in the new "All Quiet on the Western Front." It just doesn't get the starring role I expected.  

Russia will need another Tolstoy to write about Putin's war on Ukraine

Odd in 2022 to be rooting for an underdog European country against a maniacal dictator bent on war.

Seems like 1939. Not that I experienced it first-hand -- I didn’t arrive on this planet for another 11 years. In that span, World War II began and ended and other wars erupted. One maniacal dictator was defeated and another one rose. We can’t get rid of these guys. Face it, almost all are guys. In America’s zeal to blunt Stalin, Khrushchev, etc., we waged war in Vietnam and sponsored dozens of proxy wars in Latin America. We jumped into Korea. My father, a World War II veteran who only returned to the States in 1946, faced a call-up for Korea just when he was celebrating the birth of his first child, me. He wasn’t called up but wondered in a letter: “I thought they gave us 20 years between wars?”

They do, as it turned out. His father fought in The War To End All Wars (TWTEAW) and 23 years later, Dad enlisted in the U.S. Army. In the early 1960s, the U.S. waged war in Vietnam with “advisors” and, just a few years later, draftees were being flown to Ton Son Nhut. I wasn’t one of them, thankfully, but many were, reluctantly going overseas to fight yet another war. Twenty years later, we were in Southwest Asia to fight Saddam and back again 10 years later to fight Saddam and Osama and the Taliban. We were in Afghanistan 20 years.

War never ends. Each generation gets it taste and a generation later elects warmakers that send their sons and daughters off to be killed in a foreign land.

So it goes.

After living through that history, I find it ironic that I cheer on the Ukrainians. In my head, I watch the coverage and say in my head, “Kill the Russians.” I don’t say it out loud but the sentiment is there, floating around the ether. Putin is the bad guy here and we try to stop him with economic sanctions and solidarity with NATO countries. It may work. But what happens if Putin uses chemical weapons or nukes? We have to respond. Kill the Russians! I say it although I know that it's young conscripts and civilians doing the dying while Putin plays Risk in his bunker. 

Inside of me is the part that read Chekhov and Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. I remember Tolstoy’s writing about his horrific experiences as a Russian officer in the Caucasus campaign ("Hadji Murat") and Crimean War ("Sevastopol Sketches"). In the Caucasus, Chechens waged a guerrilla war against Russian troops. They responded by torching the forests so the enemy had no place to hide and decimating villages that lent aid to the guerrillas (sound familiar?). Says one of Tolstoy's Chechen fighters returning to his burnt-out village:

“Nobody spoke about hatred towards the Russians. What they all felt, from the youngest to the oldest, was stronger than hatred. It was not hatred, but an unwillingness even to acknowledge these Russian dogs as people.”

The Crimean War spawned Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade” that I once had to memorize in detention at Catholic School. It also brought ministrations of Florence Nightingale to our attention. It was as bloody as the one in Chechnya and Tolstoy described his vanity and that of his fellow officers this way:

“A thousand human self-images managed to be offended, a thousand managed to be awfully pleased, to puff themselves up, and a thousand – to find their rest within the arms of death.”

Maybe there’s a Tolstoy among the troops assaulting Mariupol or closing in on Kyiv. Someone who goes off to war in high spirits but comes home in tatters.

A salute to those books that taught me humor, satire, and the absurdity of being human

All this book-banning makes me think of all of those books I read that might meet disapproval now from the GOP Know Nothings. 

When I was in the fourth grade, my father told me I could read any book in his library. I tackled the war books, first, Guadalcanal Diary by Richard Tregaskis, Brave Men by Ernie Pyle and Up Front by Bill Mauldin, which included his Willie and Joe cartoons. He had some boys' adventure books from his childhood, Treasure Island and Ivanhoe. But I was more interested in the WWII books, as my father had been a radioman with an infantry unit in France, Belgium, and Germany. They seemed like boys' adventures to me. I read all of the Life magazines that my grandparents had saved for my dad while he was overseas. I watched war movies with my dad, as did my younger brother. We played war with our friends. 

None of my teachers ever assigned books on 20th century wars. They reached into the heroic past. The Revolutionary War had spawned books such as Johnny Tremayne and tales of Paul Revere and George Washington. The Civil War was acceptable reading as we all grew up knowing that the Yankees were the good guys and the Rebs the bad guys. This was way before we moved to the South and heard the term War of Northern Aggression. So many of the books I read as an English major and later were by writers of the American South. Their Southern Gothic tales owed their existence to the region's tortured history which included the Civil War, whatever you want to call it.

Now in my 70s, I look back on my reading as nostalgic. I also know more about the workings of the world. War can be heroic. It's also nasty, brutish, and final. Soldiers carry their experiences into old age, if they make it that far. There are brilliant antiwar books told from the warrior's POV. And books by observers, such as Red Badge of Courage and Dispatches, Michael Herr's wild book about life among the grunts in Vietnam (Herr got writing credits for Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket). 

Just about every book I ever read could be fodder for the book banners. My non-authorized reading at my Catholic high school included three oft-banned novels that influenced me more than anything I read in class: Catch-22, Slaughterhouse-Five, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. They are now considered classics and are read in some high school classrooms when Know Nothings are not disappearing books like Dunbar. They were telling me a truth that I barely knew at 18, that the world is a strange and terrifying place. 

Humor, satire, and sci-fi are great vehicles for getting at the truth. I passed Catch-22 along to my Class of '69 pals and we laughed at the absurdities. The dead man in Yossarian's tent. Major Major Major's name. Orr's pastime of ditching his bomber into the ocean to practice for his escape from war. Hilarious. We only felt a small tremor of the earthquake beneath. We could have watched the absurdity of televised military reports from Vietnam. Body count, Vietnamization, destroy the village in order to save it. It was all right there in front of us but we didn't know. 

Reading good books gave us a bit of a head start on adulthood. Still, you have to live it to really know. You can be an absurdist and still be an engaged human. You can love satire but also fall in love. Humor makes the ride fun even when it's challenging. 

I'd have none of that without the reading.

Welcome to the West's wet years

This is one of those wet years that our great-grandfathers told us about. You know, "rain follows the plow" so why not plow up 320 acres of high plains prairie and just sit back and watch the heavens unleash its nourishing rain.

It's foggy when I awake this morning. Cool. Dew on the grass and on the car window. Reminds me of a central Florida July morning. Air so filled with moisture it's like walking through a cloud. Can still smell last night's rain. My plants, shredded in a June hailstorm, are roaring back. They're sucking in that moisture like there's no tomorrow because there may not be.

One-hundred years ago, settlers to the semi-arid West found awoke to similar mornings. "Dang, ol' Charles Dana Wilber sure was right about rain following the plow. Bumper crop this year!

And maybe the following year and the one after that. But, inevitably, nature's reality came calling in the form of the Dirty Thirties. The episode was beautifully told by Jonathan Raban in his book, Bad Land: An American Romance. Abandoned farms and ranches can still be found throughout the eastern expanses of MT, WY and CO. Ruined dreams live on in bitter memories that link giant corporations (railroads) and government with broken promises.

WY Gov. Matt Mead recently used the old excuse in blocking Medicaid expansion. We can't trust the federal government to pick up its share of the bill. Can't trust the gubment! Scientists say that global warming will increase the severity of droughts and of seasonal storms -- more blizzards and worse droughts. But 100 years ago, didn't scientists say that rain would follow the plow? Climatologists and meteorologists did say that very thing. So why should we trust them now?

History's a bitch. In 1914, German and Brit and French 18-year-olds were told that honor required them to confront barbed wire and poison gas and machine guns. Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori. The lost generation -- literally and metaphorically. My generation is still haunted by Vietnam. Our government wanted to kill us all pursuing a doomed policy. The "big lie" lived on during the recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. 

How do you overcome perceptions lodged in our DNA?

Meanwhile, the rain falls and the fog rolls in. That semi-arid prairie is as green as the Irish countryside.

Lesson for politicians and military leaders: Never talk to poets

On Thursday evening, CNN's "The Sixties" aired its segment on the Vietnam War. In real time in Washington, D.C., Vietnam War veteran and POW John McCain was beating the war drums, this time for our re-involvement in another quagmire, Iraq. All week chickenhawks such as Dick Cheney had been screeching about Pres. Obama losing Iraq. President Obama staged a press conference is which he said he was sending advisers to help the Iraqi army turn back the attacks by ISIS, basically a bunch of zealots dressed in white pajamas fighting an unconventional war in the desert.

Chris and I watched the one-hour history of our involvement in Southeast Asia. Kennedy sent advisers to Vietnam and Johnson, intent on following in the slain president's footsteps, did likewise. Nobody wanted to be accused to being the one who lost Vietnam to the commies. The "domino theory" was first espoused by Ike in a 1954 speech. "The Sixties" showed a black-and-white TV news clip of dominoes set on a big floor map of Southeast Asia. The newscaster tips the first domino and the rest of them fall, one by one. If Vietnam goes, so goes Laos and Thailand and so on. Soon, little guys in black pajamas would be prowling the suburbs of Denver and Dallas and Detroit.

So we sent millions of young men from Denver and Dallas and Detroit to fight in the jungles of Vietnam. And for what?

You tell me.

It's a long story, I know. It keeps playing out in myriad ways in our own politics. The war was fought in pitched battles in Vietnam and on the home front. It left lasting scars. We made some attempts at healing in the 1970s but then along came Ronald Reagan and his Cold Warriors. We fought proxy wars with the Soviets all over the globe, rebuilt the military and then the new century arrived and Bush and Cheney launched a whole new wave of foreign misadventures.

We'll soon mark the 100th anniversary of "The Guns of August," those missteps that launched the first global war. Farmers in France and Belgium are still digging up unexploded artillery shells. Trench lines can be seen from space. Historians have spent the last 100 years explaining the slaughter to us. As is often the case, we have to rely on the poets and writers to get at the gut-level experiences if war. This is "Does It Matter" from 1918 by Siegfried Sassoon:

Does it matter? — Losing your legs?
For people will always be kind,
And you needn't show that you mind
When the others come in after hunting,
And gobble their muffins and eggs.

Does it matter? — Losing your sight?
There's such splendid work for the blind,
And people will always be kind,
As you sit on the terrace remembering,
And turning your face to the light.

Do they matter? — Those dreams from the Pit?
You can drink, and forget, and be glad,
And no one will say that you're mad,
For they'll know that you fought for your country,
And no one will worry a bit.

And Randall Jarrell's "Death of a Ball Turret Gunner" from 1945;

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

Here's "Facing It" from fellow CSU grad and Vietnam vet Yusef Komunyakaa:

My black face fades,
hiding inside the black granite.
I said I wouldn't,
dammit: No tears.
I'm stone. I'm flesh.
My clouded reflection eyes me
like a bird of prey, the profile of night
slanted against morning. I turn
this way--the stone lets me go.
I turn that way--I'm inside
the Vietnam Veterans Memorial
again, depending on the light
to make a difference.
I go down the 58,022 names,
half-expecting to find
my own in letters like smoke.
I touch the name Andrew Johnson;
I see the booby trap's white flash.
Names shimmer on a woman's blouse
but when she walks away
the names stay on the wall.
Brushstrokes flash, a red bird's
wings cutting across my stare.
The sky. A plane in the sky.
A white vet's image floats
closer to me, then his pale eyes
look through mine. I'm a window.
He's lost his right arm
inside the stone. In the black mirror
a woman's trying to erase names:
No, she's brushing a boy's hair.

Carolyn Forche wrote a scary and much anthologized prose poem, "The Colonel," about the proxy war in El Salvador. Forche went to El Salvador in the late 1970s as a poet and a fan of Claribel Alegria but ended up being a campaigner for human rights. Members of the military junta thought she was a CIA agent working as a poet, which may have led to her being invited to dinner with high-ranking military officers. It was during one of these dinners that Forche had the following encounter:

WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD is true. I was in his house. His wife carried
a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed her nails, his son went
out for the night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the
cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on its black cord over
the house. On the television was a cop show. It was in English.
Broken bottles were embedded in the walls around the house to
scoop the kneecaps from a man's legs or cut his hands to lace. On
the windows there were gratings like those in liquor stores. We had
dinner, rack of lamb, good wine, a gold bell was on the table for
calling the maid. The maid brought green mangoes, salt, a type of
bread. I was asked how I enjoyed the country. There was a brief
commercial in Spanish. His wife took everything away. There was
some talk then of how difficult it had become to govern. The parrot
said hello on the terrace. The colonel told it to shut up, and pushed
himself from the table. My friend said to me with his eyes: say
nothing. The colonel returned with a sack used to bring groceries
home. He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like
dried peach halves. There is no other way to say this. He took one
of them in his hands, shook it in our faces, dropped it into a water
glass. It came alive there. I am tired of fooling around he said. As
for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck them-
selves. He swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last
of his wine in the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said. Some
of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the
ears on the floor were pressed to the ground. 

This comes from Forche's interview with Bill Moyers as recounted in the 1995 book, The Language of Life: A Festival of Poets:

Moyers: Had I reported that incident as a journalist, I would have been quite literal: who, what, when, where, and why. What's the relationship between these facts as a journalist would report them and the truth that you're trying to reveal?
Forché: Some writers whom I admire very much say that facts often have little to do with the truth. What I was trying to do with this piece, as I finally allowed it to be in The Country Between Us, was to acknowledge that something important had actually occurred. But the poem also contains a truth about the brutality of that situation which seems to reach deeply into people. When I came back to the United States and began reading the poem, I noticed that some people were very moved by it and others were very angered by it. And some people simply didn't believe it, they said it could not have happened. There was a fierce denial and yet several years later a reporter for The Washington Post interviewed soldiers in El Salvador and they apparently talked about the practice of taking ears and all of that. In fact, one of these soldiers read the news story about his practice of taking ears and was so proud of the story that he actually clipped it out and laminated it and carried it in his wallet. Because now he was famous, you know, for this.
Moyers: That's what can happen to a journalist's account. But the poem is a condemnation.
Forché: It is a condemnation. As a journalist, maybe you wouldn't have been able to use the obscenity, and perhaps you wouldn't have been able to quote him directly. But more than that, I don't think it would've happened to you because I don't think the message was intended for the press. It was intended for a quiet communication back to Washington, and unfortunately they told the wrong person. They told a poet.
Moyers: Lesson for politicians and military leaders: Never talk to poets.
Forché: Never.

The colonel in the poem also had the reputation for warning Catholic priests that were targeted by right-wing death squads. So it goes...

Each war spawns more war poems. The launch of the "shock and awe" campaign in Iraq caused poet Sam Hamill to put out a call for protest poems for a web site and later an anthology called "Poets Against the War" (later "Poets Against War"). I made a modest contribution to the web site collection. I'm not a poet, you see, but poetry does focus the imagination and the anger. 

Now that chickenhawks are squawking about returning to Iraq, it's only fitting that I end with this poem by Iraq War veteran and University of Oregon M.F.A. grad Brian Turner:

The Hurt Locker   

Nothing but hurt left here.

Nothing but bullets and pain

and the bled-out slumping

and all the fucks and goddamns

and Jesus Christs of the wounded.

Nothing left here but the hurt.

Believe it when you see it.

Believe it when a twelve-year-old

rolls a grenade into the room.

Or when a sniper punches a hole

deep into someone’s skull.

Believe it when four men

step from a taxicab in Mosul

to shower the street in brass

and fire. Open the hurt locker

and see what there is of knives

and teeth. Open the hurt locker and learn

how rough men come hunting for souls.

Some samples from 100 years of poetry about war. No non-U.S. voices were included, although their numbers are legion. I'll save that for a future post...
 

Freedom to read under threat in South Carolina

As a Wyomingite, I can't really complain about another state's legislature's interference in the affairs of higher learning without bringing up some of our own home-grown depredations.

Remember how loudly Wyoming Republican lawmakers complained when former leftie radical Bill Ayers was invited to speak at UW? And, to be fair, it wasn't only Republicans. UW grad and Democratic Governor Dave Freudenthal lodged a complaint about Ayers. And remember how lawmakers screamed about the climate-change-themed "Carbon Sink" sculpture at UW? They fulminated long and loud enough to force the UW administration to spirit away the sculpture in the dead of night, burning parts of it in the UW power plant. 

So now the South Carolina Legislature wants to slash the budgets of the College of Charleston and University of South Carolina Upstate for forcing their delicate southern flowers to read LGBTQ-themed books. Conservatives in the S.C. Legislature discovered that College of Charleston and USC students were reading gay literature. Ironic in that a South Carolina-based press published Out Loud: The Best of Rainbow Radio -- that's Hub City in Spartanburg. I hate to bring this up but publishing is one of the "creative economy" enterprises that has helped Spartanburg show up on all those "best places to live" lists the past few years. Maybe that's what really upset the legislators. After all, literacy and creative economy and smart growth are all part of the liberal conspiracy to ruin America. Next thing you know, the U.N. will be making all of us read gay books, forcing us to live in Hobbit homes, confiscating our cars and making us ride fat-tire bicycles.

This comes from Friday's The Guardian:

The College of Charleston ran into trouble after assigning Alison Bechdel's acclaimed Fun Home to students; the graphic novel details Bechdel's coming out as a lesbian as a teenager, and her relationship with her closeted father. The University of South Carolina Upstate, meanwhile, was teaching a collection of radio stories about being gay, Out Loud: The Best of Rainbow Radio. Earlier this year, funding to the two schools of almost $70,000 (£40,000) was threatened because of the choices, described as pornographic and "forcing an agenda on teenagers" by their opponents; the issue has been under debate in the state senate this week, and authors have been coming together to stand up for LGBTQ rights.

I know a bit about the conservative South Carolina Legislature. I was a student at USC in Columbia for two years, 1969-1971. Those were stormy years.Vietnam and Kent State and riots in the streets. The Lege met right down the street from USC and its members fumed when long-haired hippies marched on the storied campus, its horseshoe once the site of a field hospital for troops wounded defending the city from that devil Sherman. Big Daddy Gov sent in the National Guard and state goons to put an end to it, busting a few heads in the process. It wasn't the National Guard who did the dirty work. They were mostly our age and not nearly as angry about protesters as the billy-club-swinging white state cops who were the age of our fathers. Heavy-handed techniques against students are not new to South Carolina or any other state. We saw some prime examples during the Occupy Movement.

So what to do? Hell, it's graduation time! Who has time to pay attention to anal-retentive legislators when there are parties to attend and beer to drink? And we still don't have a job!

Some of the most outspoken and radical people I ever met were in Columbia during that earlier trying time. You have to remember that Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. were southerners, as were Jimmy Carter and Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat for Humanity. Not to mention all of those wonderful southern writers such as Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor and Harry Crews and Lee Smith and all the rest. Richard Ford has been outspoken in his opposition to this latest travesty (witness the graphic above).

Go to Writers Speaking Out Loud to voice your discontent. Remember that many outspoken peace and civil rights and free speech and freedom to read advocates walked before you. Speak out like you mean it!

Thanks to Michael White for icasualties.org and its coverage of the Iraq War

Soldiers wave to the last U.S. military convoy to leave Iraq as it crosses the Kuwaiti border. Photo: Mario Tama/Getty Images

One of the web sites that was consistently informative and accurate during the Iraq War was icasualties.org. The site tracked war killed and wounded both in Iraq and Afghanistan. It also carried a dynamic news feed. Founder Michael White, a software engineer from Stone Mountain, Ga., was interviewed on NPR's "Weekend Edition" this morning. He noted most of the response over the years was positive but there were some who accused him of playing politics, especially with the Iraq invasion and its bloody aftermath. The site's focus was on military casualties, relying mostly on releases from the Pentagon and its equivalent in the U.K. and other "Coalition of the Willing" countries.

It was more difficult to track stats on U.S. military wounded once they left the battlefield due to HIPAA laws, which White said that he supports. He didn't want to make any statements regarding civilian casualties since there were no consistently reputable sources of info on those. Hospitals in Iraq reported one set of civilian casualties on one day and then another set the following day. Michael signed off of NPR this morning by saying that he was glad that there was one site that he wouldn't be updating as often. Thanks for icasualties.org, Michael, and all the work that went into it.

I wasn't blogging back in spring of 2003 when the U.S. launched the Iraq War. I was firmly against it. So it goes. As it winds down now, I've been looking at some of my early posts about the war. One of the first ones concerned Pres. Bush's November 2006 trip to Vietnam, a place he fought so hard not to visit during his National Guard career. The New York Times article on the trip featured this quote from Stanley Karnow, author of the much-respected history of the Vietnam War:

"There are differences and similarities, of course," he said. "We got lied into both wars." But, he added: "The easy summation is that Vietnam began as a guerrilla war and escalated into an orthodox war by the end we were fighting in big units. Iraq starts as a conventional war, and has degenerated into a guerrilla war. It has gone in an opposite direction. And it’s much more difficult to deal with."

Ain't it the truth. "We got lied into both wars." And there's another similarity. The American War in Iraq (Part II) is ending with a whimper and not a bang. Hundreds of thousands of veterans are out there now, wondering what comes next. Not too different from the mid-1970s, when millions of Vietnam veterans were out there, in places all across America, wondering what came next. 

Laramie's Nancy Sindelar: Eat an apple for peace, ya'll

Nancy Sindelar, Veterans for Peace, Laramie

It may be a slight exaggeration to say that there would be no peace movement in Laramie without Nancy Sindelar.

A slight exaggeration.

Nancy, a military veteran, helped initiate Laramie's weekly downtown antiwar protests (still going strong) and is the point person for its Veterans for Peace chapter.

She has lots more in the works. The Peace House, for one.

The Peace House is a block from my place near downtown being set up for potlucks, house parties (films) and meetings. Space for a share garden. Great apple tree getting close to harvest.

I'll settle for an apple even though (like Duane) I usually eat a peach for peace.

And this is coming up:

Wednesday, September 21, on the International Peace Day, come see the film "The Day After Peace" at the Albany County Public Library in Laramie. At 7 p.m., Veterans for Peace Wyoming chapter 65, and the Wyoming Peace, Justice, and Earth Center, will be presenting the story of how one man managed to get the cooperation of all the factions in Afghanistan to stop fighting long enough to vaccinate 1.4 million children against polio.

Nancy has a fine calendar of events hat she distributes by e-mail. I regularly steal postings from it and you should too. To get on the list, drop me a line and I'll send it to her. To keep up with Nancy via Facebook, go to http://www.facebook.com/nancy.sindelar

Peace. And thank you for your service, Nancy.

"To End All Wars" -- not by a long shot

Almost a century after it started, World War I continues to fascinate. I read the favorable New York Times review by Christopher Hitchens and the author's introduction to "To End All Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, 1914-1918,” by Adam Hochschild (illustrated. 448 pp. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. $28).  Hitchens has many good things to say about, although he notes that "no single narrative can do justice to an inferno whose victims still remain uncounted." 

Indeed. When I was born in 1950, the end of The Great War was only 32 years in the past. In contrast, the end of World War II, which we now acknowledge as a continuation of the first, was a scant five years in the past. The U.S. was already engaged in another one in Korea, and my generation of boys was busy being hatched for Vietnam. My country has spent the 21st century at war in Afghanistan and Iraq, with scores of "little wars" raging all over the globe. 

"The war to end all wars" was Pres. Wilson's phrase. Many in Wilson's Democratic Party felt betrayed when Wilson, who campaigned in 1916 on the motto "He kept us out of war," plunged the U.S. into the inferno. He instituted a military draft and came down hard on anti-war groups. Still, he was part of the Progressive Movement and instituted many progressive programs during his first term. He was also an internationalist, an egghead with a Ph.D. One of the best and the brightest. When have we heard that term before? I remember. It referred to Kennedy's architects of Vietnam, as described in David Halberstam's book.

Pres. Obama, a Democrat, didn't get us started down the path to endless war. A Republican, George W. Bush, ordered the attack on Afghanistan, considered by many (me included) to me justified. He also launched the pointless war in Iraq, which I staunchly opposed. It seems that the U.S. has inherited endless war along with its claim as Lone World Super Power.

Super Powers can be brought low, too. In the first chapter, Hochschild describes the incredible pomp and circumstance of Queen Victoria's diamond jubilee celebration in 1897. What a party it was. England ruled the waves and almost one-quarter of the earth's land. Troopers in full dress uniform from India, Burma, Canada, Australia, Trinidad, South Africa, and others marched in the parade. Scores of congratulatory notes were sent, many from the U.S. They all praised Britain's supremacy in the world. Here's an amazing and silly one:

...across the Atlantic, the New York Times virtually claimed membership in the empire: "We are a part, and a great part, of the Greater Britain which seems so plainly destined to dominate this planet." 

World War I spelled the beginning of the end of England's supremacy.

Now that I've been teased by the opening chapters, I'm off to get a copy of the book. Read the review and excerpt here: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/15/books/review/book-review-to-end-all-wars-by-adam-hochschild.html?nl=books&emc=booksupdateema2

Who is Bradley Manning?

Nancy Sindelar of Laramie's Veterans for Peace was at the action in D.C. and Quantico this weekend and asked me to post some of her photos of protests against the treatment of military whistle-blower Bradley Manning:

Bradley Manning protest photos

Who is Bradley Manning?

Go to http://www.bradleymanning.org. I was reading some of the posts from yesterday's protests. Here's a sample:

Things have taken a nasty turn at Quantico. As protesters silently moved to march to the Iwo Jima Memorial to lay a wreath to remember the dead, Marine MPs refused to allow all but press and six veterans to proceed on to the Memorial. Prince William County police on the site joined the Marines in attempting to delay the protesters from proceeding, according to live tweeting by Jane Hamsher. In response, protesters laid and sat down on the ground, refusing to move. Police then began arresting protesters one by one and are loading them on to two nearby police buses for booking. Daniel Ellsberg is among those being arrested.

One of the protesters there, Helen Gerhardt, tweets that protesters are being peaceful in response to police pulling them up by both arms and putting them behind the line.

Rootwork updates that some protesters have stuck “Free Bradley Manning” stickers on police riot shields.

Read more: http://www.bradleymanning.org/16510/march-20th-events-update/#ixzz1HEpeOuo9

Sunday Web Reading Roundup -- yee-hah!

Cheyenne's Joanne Kennedy Smyth writes about mirror neurons, empathy and writers.

Maureen Dowd: Dick Cheney as Snidely Whiplash (via Daily Kos).

Vincent Miller provides some perspective to this weekend's anti-Obama protests at Notre Dame in the National Catholic Reporter.

Former Jacksonian jhwygirl on Montana's 4&20 blackbirds gets the brain cells percolating with a haiku slam challenge .

Memorial Day gifts for the antiwar veteran (and non-veteran) at Iraq Veterans Aginst the War.

Voices in Wartime seeks submissions for "Waging Peace"

The Voices in Wartime Education Project seeks submissions for an on-line booklet, "Waging Peace," to celebrate the International Day of Peace in September. Voices is asking for contributions from members of poems, narratives, quotes, photographs and pictures. You have to join My Voice to submit your entries. Go to My Voice.

One of the submissions comes from poet and poetry performer Judyth Hill, formerly of Sapello, N.M., and now living in San Juan de Allende in Mexico. Judyth sent this poem to me in slightly different form when war was breaking out in Iraq six years ago.

Wage Peace

Wage peace with your breath.

Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.

Breathe in terrorists
and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields.

Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.

Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud.

Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.

Make soup.

Play music, memorize the words for thank you in three languages.

Learn to knit, and make a hat.

Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief
as the out breath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.

Swim for the other side.

Wage peace.

Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious:

Have a cup of tea and rejoice.

Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.

Six years on, anti-war poems still stand as witness

In the early part of 2003, I was mightily pissed that we were set to invade Iraq. So, angry, in fact, that I wrote a poem and sent it into Poets Against the War, which eventually became Poets Against War. It wasn’t the greatest poem in the world, but it was heartfelt and relied a lot on the talents of P.B. Shelley. It didn’t make it into the "Poets Against the War" anthology, but it was one of 13,000 poems presented to Congress on March 5, 2003, by PAW rabble-rousers Sam Hamill, Terry Tempest Williams, and several others. So, I mark the anniversary of 2,190 days of pointless war with a poem.

Ozymandias Exploded

With apologies to P.B. Shelley

"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
stand in the desert.
Near them, on the sand, half sunk,
a shattered visage lies,
tells lies and more lies
about the desert war,
last stand in the desert,
last stand for oil in the desert.

Near them, on the sand, half sunk,
a shattered visage lies
whose frown and
wrinkled lips and
sneer of cold command
stand in the desert
keep standing in the desert,
stand for nothing in the desert.

I met a traveller
(might have been a poet)
from an antique land
or maybe from the future.
She came upon a statue in the desert
and on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is George Bush, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains.

Nothing stands in the desert
nothing beside remains
but to take a stand about the war
in the desert;
nothing beside remains
round the decay of that colossal wreck
boundless and bare,
the lone and level sands stretch far away.

See the poem on-site at http://www.poetsagainstwar.net/displaypoem.asp?AuthorID=5733#453063245

Code Pink hits the Denver streets

Members of Code Pink bicycled through downtown and stopped at 17th and Broadway to set up and antiwar demonstration. This Code Pink activist's sign reads "Save the Constitution: Impeach!" A re-creation of the U.S. Constitution (remember that?) adorns her shirt.

RAM performs free concert in Denver

Rage Against the Machine at a concert in The Netherlands earlier this year

According to The Denver Post:

Rage Against the Machine has agreed to perform as part of the "Tent State Music Festival to End the War" on Wednesday, Aug. 27 at the Denver Coliseum during the Democratic National Convention. They will be joined by Denver's Flobots, along with The Coup, State Radio and Wayne Kramer.

Doors open at 9:30 a.m., show begins at 11 a.m.

Tickets are free and available by lottery. Sign up for the lottery, with a valid photo ID (person must be present) at Tent State University at Cuernavaca Park between 11 a.m. and 6:30 p.m. from Sunday, Aug. 24, through Tuesday, Aug. 26 (look for the Tent State Music Festival booth near the Iraq Veterans Against the War Tower).

Winners will be notified by email Tuesday evening, Aug. 26. Winners can claim their tickets at the Denver Coliseum beginning 9:30 a.m. on Wednesday, Aug. 27.

The event is sponsored by the Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW) and Tent State University.

The Denver Coliseum is located at I-70 (Brighton Blvd. exit #275B) just east of the junction of I-25 with I-70.

Broyles: "America, we have a problem"

As a writer, screenwriter (Apollo 13) and editor for almost 40 years, William Broyles, Jr., knows a good metaphor when he sees one.

During a speech May 24 at the Democratic State Convention in Jackson, Broyles (shown above at podium) talked about shovels and war. When he had finished his year in Vietnam and was "ready to get on that freedom bird and go home," his Marine Corps sergeant intervened. Lt. Broyles had checked out a shovel and hadn’t returned it. He didn’t have one, but the sergeant insisted: no shovel, no freedom bird. So Broyles bought a shovel on the black market and turned it in. He flew home, carrying with him a lesson in accountability.

"That’s the kind of attitude we used to have," he said. These days, during the Bush Administration’s endless war in Iraq, "we shovel all of our money to a few large corporations" which are also pals of Bush and Cheney. "We worked hard for that money. I take it personally."

Broyles, an Obama delegate to the convention from Teton County, moved the luncheon crowd with the story of his son, David. He moved himself, too, stopping several times as he choked back tears. David graduated from the University of Texas "and enlisted with a great deal of idealism," serving as a pararescue jumper with the U.S. Air Force. He’s the fourth generation of Broyles’ men to serve in combat.

"With each tour in Iraq, he grew to hate the war – for the men in his unit and all the others," he said.

At home, Broyles couldn’t answer the phone when it rang. When he heard about another batch of young Americans blown up by a roadside bomb, he thought of his son.

"There better be a good reason when you go to war," said Broyles. "If you abuse their trust, you create a hole in their soul and the soul of America."

American military men and women are returning home in droves with amputated limbs and traumatic brain injury and mental health problems. Broyles said that a thousand attempt suicide each month.

David’s new mission is to help wounded veterans. He swam the Strait of Gibraltar in 2006 with Army officer Rush Vann, a feat documented in the new film, "Swim," which will be screened this summer at the Jackson Hole Film Festival. Their goal was to raise money and awareness for disabled veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. According to the JHFF web site, they were only "the 16th and 17th Americans to record a successful crossing. Fewer Americans have accomplished their challenge than have climbed Mount Everest." [See a clip of "Swim" at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTABAKB6i38]

So, while some families sacrifice much during wartime, others don’t.

"I take it personally when I see George Bush, who dodged Vietnam, and Dick Cheney, who dodged the draft, talk about sacrifice," Broyles said. He reeled off a list of Republican "warriors" who never served in the military (Rush Limbaugh) to those who have military-age sons with better things to do (Mitt Romney and his five sons). He takes it personally when Bush and John McCain think that sacrifice is giving tax cuts to the rich, many of whom are making a bundle as war profiteers. He takes it personally when he hears about military coffins coming back from the war, some ending up cremated at pet cemeteries. He takes it personally when he sees George Bush "giving up golf to support the troops." [Note to readers: Dubya has ended his golf hiatus, causing many of us to wonder if the war is over and "mission accomplished."]

Broyles wants the U.S. to withdraw now from Iraq. "We can’t solve this – the Iraqis have to solve it," he said. "We withdraw now or five years from now – we’ll have the same result."

He injected some history from the Vietnam War. Richard Nixon campaigned in 1968 with a plan to end the Vietnam War. Once elected, he changed his mind. "25,000 to 30,000 names on The Wall were written by Richard Nixon," Broyles said, adding that another million or so Vietnamese also died. The main reason give by U.S. strategists for the war was to stop the takeover of Southeast Asia by communists – China and the U.S.S.R. Four years after the end of the war in April 1975, a united communist Vietnam went to war with communist neighbor China. Less than 15 years after the end of the Vietnam War, the Soviet Union collapsed. "Vietnam is now one of the strongest countries in Asia," Broyles noted. It didn’t happen overnight, but both the U.S. and Vietnam were stronger when the war ended.

"The longest love affair of my life is with the U.S. Marine Corps," said Broyles, a lifelong Democrat. "One thing I learned in Vietnam – never ever leave anyone behind. It’s a Marine Corps value. It’s an American value."

The goal for the Democrats in the 2008 election, he said, is to "leave nobody behind," no matter their race or gender or economic circumstances. "We’re going to take everyone with us – and a lot of Republicans, too."

Broyles bio:

Bill Broyles grew up in Baytown, Texas, where he worked in the oil fields to pay his way through Rice University. He was a Marshall Scholar at Oxford University, worked in the civil rights movement, and then served in Vietnam as a Marine Corps infantry lieutenant.

As a journalist, he was founding editor of the very lively Texas Monthly and, from 1982-84, was editor-in-chief of Newsweek.

He has published his work in The New York Times, Atlantic, Esquire, and The Economist, among many others. He wrote the book Brothers in Arms about his Vietnam experience, and was the co-creator of the Emmy Award-winning TV series China Beach. He wrote the original screenplay for the movie Cast Away and the screenplay for Jarhead. He has co-authored six other screenplays, including Apollo 13, Unfaithful, The Polar Express and Flags of Our Fathers. He was nominated for an Academy Award for the screenplay for Apollo 13. He is married to Andrea, a well-known artist. They live in Wilson, Wyoming, and they have five children: David, Susannah, Katie, James and Bettina.

Writing workshop with an antiwar slant

Here’s yet another summer writing workshop, this one with an antiwar slant. This invitation comes from Kevin Bowen, director of the William Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences, for its 21st annual summer writing workshop June 16-26. Excerpted from the Poets Against War web site:

As we face current world conflicts -- and our own personal writing journeys -- we have a powerful tradition to build on. Our workshop faculty have produced some of the most significant literature to emerge from the Vietnam experience as well as other areas afflicted by war. These
include poets/veterans Bruce Weigl and novelist Larry Heinemann; non-fiction writer Lady Borton (who has lived for 35 years in Vietnam); poet Fred Marchant was discharged from the U.S. Marine Corps as an conscientious objector;
poet/translator Martha Collins, who has been teaching a translation class, which has focused on works in Vietnamese. Novelist Demetria Martinez once faced a potential 25 years in prison for writing about Americans aiding Central American refugees. Poet MacDara Woods brings a perspective to teaching shaped by his experiences of living through "the troubles" in Ireland. One of the high points of the writing workshop is always a visit by Vietnamese writers -- their participation in Martha's class, and in panels. Bruce Weigl, Lady Borton and myself also work on translations as part of the Center's commitment to build bridges with our former "enemies." Last year we had a first-ever panel of veterans of the Gulf War and the Iraq War, moderated by Vietnam veteran Larry Heinemann. As for the 2008 workshop, we very much anticipate participation by poet Afaa Michael Weaver.

The William Joiner Center and our annual workshop are both a hub and a sanctuary for writers coming from all over the
world: people who have fought in wars, protested wars; and all who have survived to bear witness. This letter is an invitation for you to consider being part of the workshop community in 2008. First let me stress that students write about a variety of topics. We do not in any way wish to limit what anyone writes: We are open to the surprises that writing produces, and how that helps us to grow as individuals who, as the late Grace Paley always said, can be "useful" in a troubled world.

To apply, send a letter of interest (the sooner the better) with a writing sample. Include an indication of what genre you wish to work in. Address applications and inquiries about the workshop to T. Michael Sullivan, William Joiner Center, University of Massachusetts. Boston, 100 Morrissey Blvd. Boston, MA 02125-3393. You can contact him at Michael.Sullivan@umb.edu or at 617-287-5850. Last summer we managed, as always, to keep costs relatively low: $400 for two weeks, $220 for one week.

iCasualties.org back in business

iCasualties.org, or the Iraq Coalition Casualty Count site, is beginning to look like its former self. Michael White's site has been an invaluable source of data on U.S. and coalition deaths in Iraq as well as stats on the wounded. It posts daily news stories about the war, often from non-U.S. sources such as Reuters and The Guardian and some Middle East newspapers and wire services. It also features hometown stories about young soldiers and marines killed or grievously wounded in the war. There's also a link to similar info on Afghanistan, a.k.a. "The Forgotten War."

A few weeks back, the web site's server was attacked and each time users clicked it on, it led to other sites. Annoying to some, it was tragic for those of us who want to keep track of the cost of the travesty in Iraq. We can't trust the MSM to do so, since they've apparently forgotten that the war exists. They're too busy tracking gossipy tidbits about Obama and Clinton (but not McCain).

In a recent poll, most Americans couldn't come close in guessing the number of U.S. dead in Iraq. Is it too much to pay attention to the slaughter that Bush & Cheney have wrought? Even if you don't have a son or a neighbor kid in the fight, pretend that you do. My 23-year-old son Kevin could be in the military right now. Instead, he's working and going to a community college in Tucson. Some of his high school buds have been to Iraq and are going back.

I can imagine him in Iraq. I can imagine how I would feel while he was there and I could even dwell for a millisecond on how it would be if anything happened to him. Take a second to think about it.

Then go to http://www.icasualties.org/ and learn something.

From antiwar.com: "The time not to become a father is eighteen years before a war." -- E. B. White

5 years on, Iraq policy doesn't have a prayer

President Bush is storming the country this week making excuses for his five-year-old Iraq War. Today, he talked to the National Religious Broadcasters Convention in Nashville, where I’m sure he got a rousing chorus of "Amen -- now pass the ammunition."

And now comes something completely different, Christianity-wise.

The following is on the Sojourners’ web site, and includes a call to sign a petition:

This season of Lent, we are truly living "in darkness and in the shadow of death" (Luke 1:78-79) as we mark, on March 19, the fifth anniversary of the war with Iraq. It is a war that is being waged by our country, financed by our taxes, and fought by our sisters and brothers. As U.S. Christians, we issue a call to the American church to lament and repent of the sin of this war.

We lament the suffering and violence in Iraq....
We lament the effects of this war on our country....
We repent of our failure to fully live the teaching of Jesus to be peacemakers....
We believe repentance means more than just being sorry....
We dedicate ourselves to the biblical vision of a world in which nations do not attempt to resolve international problems by waging war on other nations....

Sign on now at http://go.sojo.net/campaign/iraqstatement