Future? What future? It's 1912, For Fuck's Sake.

[kiss my axe]

I'm pretty sure they had to rely on dogs and carrier pigeons to send for reinforcements, too.

[LMNO]

Visions of Hell, indeed.  Urgh.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I'm pretty sure they had to rely on dogs and carrier pigeons to send for reinforcements, too.

No, they used runners.  Hitler was one, incidentally, and what he saw made him forbid the first use of gas by Nazi troops...Which meant that gas was pretty much left alone in WWII (with a few exceptions, like Nanking).

Runners had a very, very short life expectancy.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Visions of Hell, indeed.  Urgh.

When I was a child, I had plenty of older relatives that had "been through the mill" in WWI.  One of them, my great-great uncle Charles ("Chick") had spent 60 years sleeping in a sitting position, with skin the color of milk...He had, it seems, not gotten to the chemical jug fast enough, and pissed on his face patch (early gas mas, looked like a surgeon's mask) to neutralize the chlorine.  It saved his life, but I don't think he was very happy about it, as the gas still killed him, inch by inch, over 6 decades.

When I had asked these men what it was like, they said they could only remember ice cold mud all over them, lice, and the constant boom of artillery.  Whether they were being straight with me or not, I do not know...But they claimed that it was so miserable that they couldn't remember how bad it was.

Bear in mind that they spend a little more than 3 straight years in those trenches, with maybe a week or two per year in the rear.

[kiss my axe]

Visions of Hell, indeed.  Urgh.

When I was a child, I had plenty of older relatives that had "been through the mill" in WWI.  One of them, my great-great uncle Charles ("Chick") had spent 60 years sleeping in a sitting position, with skin the color of milk...He had, it seems, not gotten to the chemical jug fast enough, and pissed on his face patch (early gas mas, looked like a surgeon's mask) to neutralize the chlorine.  It saved his life, but I don't think he was very happy about it, as the gas still killed him, inch by inch, over 6 decades.

When I had asked these men what it was like, they said they could only remember ice cold mud all over them, lice, and the constant boom of artillery.  Whether they were being straight with me or not, I do not know...But they claimed that it was so miserable that they couldn't remember how bad it was.

Bear in mind that they spend a little more than 3 straight years in those trenches, with maybe a week or two per year in the rear.

My dad never talked about the trenches much except for a couple of stock stories that he repeated every time it came up.
He showered two or three times a day for the rest of his life, though.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Visions of Hell, indeed.  Urgh.

When I was a child, I had plenty of older relatives that had "been through the mill" in WWI.  One of them, my great-great uncle Charles ("Chick") had spent 60 years sleeping in a sitting position, with skin the color of milk...He had, it seems, not gotten to the chemical jug fast enough, and pissed on his face patch (early gas mas, looked like a surgeon's mask) to neutralize the chlorine.  It saved his life, but I don't think he was very happy about it, as the gas still killed him, inch by inch, over 6 decades.

When I had asked these men what it was like, they said they could only remember ice cold mud all over them, lice, and the constant boom of artillery.  Whether they were being straight with me or not, I do not know...But they claimed that it was so miserable that they couldn't remember how bad it was.

Bear in mind that they spend a little more than 3 straight years in those trenches, with maybe a week or two per year in the rear.

My dad never talked about the trenches much except for a couple of stock stories that he repeated every time it came up.
He showered two or three times a day for the rest of his life, though.

Your dad was in WWI?

[kiss my axe]

Was just going to edit...WWII. Got about three hours sleep last night. 

I don't think I ever heard anybody talk about WWI at all, even though I remember people who served.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Was just going to edit...WWII. Got about three hours sleep last night. 

I don't think I ever heard anybody talk about WWI at all, even though I remember people who served.

World War II was worse in terms of loss of life and scope, but it wasn't a patch on the actual conditions the soldiers faced in World War I.  My great uncles that were in WWII wouldn't tell me anything until I had joined the military - against their vigorous protests - and then they told me damn near everything they could remember, as I was then part of the "club".

When I got home from Desert Storm, 3 of them and I spent an entire weekend drunk, spinning yarns and telling tales.  It was an interesting experience...They treated me as if I had been of their generation from that point forward.

Years later, back in Illinois, I was at the pub and the owner's dad was in from out of town.  He was a Vietnam vet, and had never really "come home".  I was introduced to him as a veteran, and we got to drinking and talking.  He mentioned, gesturing around with his glass, that nobody around us had any clue as to what goes on in the world.  I replied that this was because we did our job, and that a population ignorant of the horrors of war was a GOOD thing, and also the best commendation a soldier could ever recieve.

I was later told by Eric, the pub's owner, that his father had relaxed after that, for the first time that Eric could ever remember.  I've kind of felt good about that ever since.

[LMNO]

I feel the need to say something more than, "that hit home, great post, IAWTC".


So, I'll say "thanks".

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I feel the need to say something more than, "that hit home, great post, IAWTC".


So, I'll say "thanks".

For what?

You know what's funny is, back in the lead up to Desert Storm, we all felt 10 feet tall and bullet proof.  Every one of us an Audie Murphy, etc, etc.  When the war actually drew close, it got kind of scary, but we were all he-men, right?

HAW!

Looking back at pictures from the time, we were kids so young I wouldn't hire them at the plant I currently work at.  Little kids with rifles, you know?  Hell, I've got a picture of my son in his dress uniform right next to my monitor, and he's practically an infant.

It occurs to me, though, that you couldn't get me to do that shit now, because I'm old enough to know that there are no great causes¹, and that I am in fact not immortal.  That's why we use teenagers to prop up our markets overseas.



¹  Going to two wars trade shows will teach you how things really work.  And neither of those wars were ANYTHING on, say, Vietnam...Let alone a rolling atrocity like World War I or II.

[kiss my axe]

I feel the need to say something more than, "that hit home, great post, IAWTC".


So, I'll say "thanks".

There's a lot of great posts on this board but I sat here for a few minutes trying to figure out what to even say about that one. It's awesome.

[LMNO]

Thanks for something that had a less-than-horrible ending, and a good point.

[kiss my axe]

I've read that during the Civil War they had kids as young as thirteen fighting. Supposedly they lied about their age, but...c'mon.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I've read that during the Civil War they had kids as young as thirteen fighting. Supposedly they lied about their age, but...c'mon.

There was a very famous case of a 12 year old who managed to enlist in the US Navy during WWII.  He went through some of the heaviest fighting in the pacific before his actual age came out, at which point they hustled him home as fast as they could.

Thing is, 17-19 isn't that old.  It's fucking YOUNG.

[kiss my axe]

Yes, most of the 17-19 year olds I know look like babies.
When they go over there, they start looking older.