One wonders how Frederic Henry would handle the job of evacuating wounded from Syria, Iraq, or Afghanistan, 85 years after he was deployed to the World War One Italian front as an ambulance driver, by Ernest Hemingway, in A Farewell to Arms.
If Hillary Clinton had championed issues that directly correlate to presidential authority, like ending perpetual wars or curtailing domestic spying, I probably wouldn't be considering Rand Paul in 2016.
Trying to tell the stories of the latest human catastrophes in the Democratic Republic of Congo feels like woolgathering. Not the popular definition of a "flight of fancy," or Patti Smith's phantom woolgatherers clothed in "strange archaic cap and dress," in her magnificent story/poem Woolgathering.
U.S. officials demonstrated a tolerance and forbearance in dealing with Geronimo that wouldn't stand a chance of prevailing today, against a similar "hostile."
American Sniper succeeds in showing the struggle of a dangerous man trying to live a normal life with his family. The affect the war has on families, and how it changes their loved ones is something not often explored, especially not this deeply or honestly.
U.S. hawks are pulling no punches, because they have no more punches to pull. They recognize well enough that if a nuclear deal is cemented in the weeks ahead, their push for war is close to being all for naught.
In his model of the face of nature, Darwin showcases the interconnectedness of all species, together with the way in which changes to that face (the hammer blows) favor some species (wedges) while forcing out others.
U.S. politicians and pundits are fond of saying that America's wars have defended America's freedom. But the historical record doesn't bear out this contention. In fact, over the past century, U.S. wars have triggered major encroachments upon civil liberties.
"This is a prison," says Peter Malek, pointing to the razor-wire topped mud barrier which marks the perimeter of the camp that has been his home since he was forced to flee his home village nine months ago. "If I go outside those walls, I could easily be killed."
Rarely, can a traveler today still touch history on such a personal level. Walking the beaches, seeing the towns and even touching the infamous impenetrable hedgerows takes you back 70 years.
Commemorations are good. It is good to stand with eyes lowered and to hear the bell ring and the bugle sound. The only danger is that in honoring the veterans, both living and dead, we will let our feelings be cheapened into flag-waving sentimentality.
What rapidly came to be called the "Great War" was widely understood not just as a "world" war but also as an "epochal" moment in world history. It was the first "total war" in which entire nations and peoples could be organized toward the waging of war.
How do we break the mind-forged bars of fear that presently keep us on the treadmill of war, annihilating our Constitution, eliminating our civil liberties, and dismissing any hope for a domestic economy in which everyone has an opportunity to survive?
In my conversations with veterans I often hear from their family members that, "He just never talks about it." Stories connect people, and veterans' families and friends want that connection, but veterans still don't talk about it. Why?
It behooves Americans not only to pause and consider their war dead, even if just doing so by pondering the anonymous tale of a single lapidary name, but also to think about a contemporary society where the whole concept of such binding sacrifice is equally dead.
There have been large and protracted actions defined as battles that have lasted weeks, months, or years. But if we want to narrow the definition of "battle" to be defined as a single uninterrupted moment of conflict, then September 12, 1683 is a strong contender.