The Eve of Destruction

Barry Maguire, once a hippy rocker lately into gospel music, sang the title song which was written by PF Sloan.

Listen and tremble. : The Eve of Destruction

Then there is Buffy Sainte Marie’s Universal Soldier

All of 50 years ago, they made my Mum cry when I played them.

They make me cry now. Especially now, as we in Australia and New Zealand gather to honour the sacrifice and courage of our armed forces, on the anniversary of the Gallipoli fiasco.

My great, great grandfather was a soldier, as was his son, and also his son, my grandfather, Aubrey Vialls. His son, my uncle Boy, flew in the Western Desert in World War 2

My other grandfather was a soldier, who fought in 3 wars, was awarded the DSO for bravery and briefly commanded the South African Brigade on the Western Front in World War 1.

My father served in North Africa and Italy in World War 2. His brother fought in Europe, Burma and Malaya and commanded the Royal Hampshire Regiment for a while .

My son has served in Timor, Afghanistan and Sinai

I have a conflict of emotion and intellect which is unlikely to be easily reconciled. I believe that we need guards and sentries to preserve our way of life. I admire the way of the warrior and believe we need courageous, strong people to keep us safe.

The warrior enshrines courage and resourcefulness and longs to prove himself in battle, to demonstrate the skills which have been taught.

As we saw in the Vietnam War, a small commitment to shore up a government against communist overthrow, turns into a vortex, sucking in tens of thousands who died, generating a military-industrial economy which gains heavy momentum.

Not long after, Middle Eastern tyrants defy Pax Americana and the war vortex starts sucking in soldiers and spitting them out dead or maimed.

Where does the virtuous deployment (is there such a thing?) of soldiers begin and where does it end. Rules of engagement are political tools. Politicians have different values and interests and often lose sight of the humanity their decisions impact. Once the ball is rolling it only stops when the pain becomes unbearable…

Can you imagine a world war, now that we have grown so lax and soft and comfort friendly? Now we fuss more about recompensing historical wrongs to ancestors of modern day minorities. Now we can’t say, no, now move along. Now we can’t defend our lives without fear of accusation of excess. Nor can the police.

Suddenly, all in Australia, between ages of 18 and 45 are conscripted for war service: men and wwomen (!!), citizens and aliens too (those that are not interned); protests, strikes and demonstrations will be banned and forcefully suppressed, (no time for the frillier civil liberties); rationing will slim us down.

Watch the wave of youth crime disappear and the woke wails dwindle to a whisper.

It could easily happen … soon; conscription happened three times in the last century!

I wrote about the paradox of remembrance after Armistice Day in 2021. It seems that I continue to wrestle conciliation between martial honour and the desire for peace.

If you can take more of the protest era songs listen to Masters of War written by Bob Dylan, sung here by Barry Maguire (I had his LP: The World’s Last Private Citizen).