Quote:so when ISIS arrives on our doorstep you and aussie will be well and truly under the bed I guess along with your uncles and cousins who believe any form of war is for dills...and only to be disrespected... we get it.
The only thing you
get, cods is the fantasy of the alleged honour and glory of having the beegeezus belted out of you in a War. There is nothing sweet, nothing charming, nothing in itself to be admired. It is grubby, non-humane and very terrible. There is nothing to glorify. That is for people who believe Biggles was real. My Father and his Uncles got shot at, and they shot back. The Great Uncles were lousy shots as they were killed. My Dad survived WW2 and he metaphorically spat at the political wankers who wanted for their own purposes to seek votes out of military nationalism. I remember wishing nothing more than wanting to join the Cadets at my High School in the mid 60s, and my Dad absolutely refusing to allow it on the basis that he did not want me to be playing at 'war.' He reckoned he had paid the 'Family Dues,' in that regard. For all of his Life, so far as I knew, he never, ever entered an RSL and he never marched in or watched an Anzac Day March/Ceremony ~ yet, on the day my Brother and I buried him, we learned that the Old Fart was a Life Member of the RSL. That, my Dear Cods, is 'spirit,' of the private and honourable kind.
Later, my Brother was conscripted....taken out of his civilian job and plonked into the LNP's 'All the Way with LBJ' Military, potentially directly into Vietnam. Thank ferk that Whitlam arrived and stopped the ships which were about to send my Brother to Vietnam. My Old Man supported him every step of the way, but he never slept about it.
Long story....Brother stayed in ~ retired as a Brigadier, and he too will figuratively spit on your stupid vicarious claim about a 'spirit.'
War is shite, and there is nothing to glorify whatsoever. Nothing.