Forgotten sons

1917

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Siegfried Sassoon



Trench Suicide - Otto Dix

2004

ARMY TROOPS IN IRAQ:

NEW NUMBERS SHOW ALARMING INCREASE IN SUICIDE RATE, MENTAL HEALTH EVACUATIONS

By Salamander Davoudi
in Washington
January 15 2004

The US army's suicide rate in Iraq is a third higher than rates for troops during peacetime, the Pentagon's most senior doctor said yesterday.

My my. What a long way we've come.