Rupert Brooke was commissioned as an officer in the Royal Navy, was involved in a limited engagement that did not expose him to the abbatoir of war and could thus wrote romantic and heroic poetry like this eternally famous poem The Soldier. He died ingloriously on a troop ship five months later of dysentery and was buried on a Greek island.
In 1986 Craven was visiting Cambridge and 'punting on the Cam' It overturned and motivated the following infamous doggerel.
Siegfried Sassoon fought on the Western front and was awarded the Military Cross for his bravery under fire. He in fact, had at least two "Private Ryan" experiences including a bullet wound in the chest that left him a permanent invalid. His bitter derision of "The Hero fantasy" appears in the following poem
Take up our quarrel with the foe.
To You from falling hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep though poppies grow
In Flanders fields
Rudyard Kipling was born in 1865 a child of the British empire
In 1897
at the height of British Imperialism and at the celebration of Queen Victoria's
Diamond Jubileehe he shocked the Empire with his prophetic poem Recessional. It is no
less shocking today as the United States seeks to express its imperial will
through the force of arms
Captain E. Chipman Higgins is a retired Naval Officer who served with distinction in the Navy Polaris Fleet Ballistic Missile System designed to deter nuclear war. This was a major part of the cold war with the Soviet Union which was won without firing a shot. There were few medals bestowed in this war and the participants were driven by a duty to preserve the peace while their fellow citizens fiddled with affluence. These unsung heroes deserve a burial in our memorial grounds to remind the world that peace can be preserved without episodes in the slaughter house of war. This is memorialized in his poem written a few short days ago as we prepare the strategies and the techniques with which we will win the war against terrorism.God of our fathers, known of old -- Lord of our far-flung battle line -- Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine -- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget -- lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies -- The Captains and the Kings depart -- Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget -- lest we forget! Far-called our navies melt away -- On dune and headland sinks the fire -- Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget -- lest we forget! If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe -- Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law -- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget -- lest we forget! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard -- All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen.
Today I sit beside my father's memory and make
A plan with "time". All the thirteen billion years
Of past are in my view, the seven billion used
To coalesce the Milky Way` two billion more
to make a living cell. The rest till now to learn to spell.
I'm filled with singing gratitude for time to love my wife`
My children, parents, and my family yet to come,
The time to think about the endless and the end,
The time to sort out human race and rage,
These are my final lines of verse before I go beyond
The terror used by men to reign. This is my last refrain.