The Influence of the War on Me, MSS Volume 10, Issue 1
Dublin Core
Title
The Influence of the War on Me, MSS Volume 10, Issue 1
Creator
Thomas Haynes
Publisher
Butler University, Department of English
Date
1942-11-01
Rights
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Text
Wars wreck everything. A happy
home, a lover's dream, a commercial manc1ger's
contract, and even politicians' plans
suffer from the dire consequence of war.
War, inevitable war, has broken, shaped,
and reshaped maps and men's lives since
the dawn of man.
In 1942,this day, I look with apprehension
upon this world of conflict, and wonder
(with no less apprehension) what will
become of me. I had plans, yes. I've
done my share of dreaming. I've even
earned a large share of money at one time
or another. I've seen a bit of the world.
['ve gained a considerable amount of
experience, both the hard and the easy way;
but what good is all this if I must go to
war, perhaps never to return again? War,
ignoble war - why do men and nations
behave this way?
Do you see those creases in my forehead?
Do you see that grave expression
on my face, and that bewildered gleam in
my eyes? Have you heard those glorious
tales of heroism and those equally repugnant
tales of woe, and crime, and shame?
Do you see that half-defeated soldier to be?
That's me! What influence does the war
have on me in 1942? I tell you I just
don't know what to do. I may be here
today, but tomorrow?
The realities of life have changed:
superficiality and celophanic artificiality
have clothed this world of mine for 1942.
Because of the present war the clashing,
the clanging, and the bloodshed have led
me to take a diferent perspective on life.
I walk around in a stupor, half-dazed, bevildered
,and amazed. My movements
are only mechanical, because I am constantly
thinking in terms of war; youthful
spirit and zest have left me. I represent
a portion of American youth - the eighteen
and nineteen year olds.
Big money paying jobs are scarce, that
is, for me. I am between the ages of
eighteen and twenty. "Uncle Sam needs
you worse than we do," so says the manuracturer,
but I have to live and so do all
the other youths of my age.
Don't get me wrong. If I could win
this war, I would gladly render my services
to this, my great country's cause.
I'm as patriotic as you or the next fellow!
There is nothing I'm more proud of than
this, my native mother land. I've been
clothed and reared and fed in her glorious
sunshine, and on her own soft bosom of
dewy grass and fragrant field. I've lived
a good life, but today - 1942 - I'm in
such a dither that I don't know what to do
home, a lover's dream, a commercial manc1ger's
contract, and even politicians' plans
suffer from the dire consequence of war.
War, inevitable war, has broken, shaped,
and reshaped maps and men's lives since
the dawn of man.
In 1942,this day, I look with apprehension
upon this world of conflict, and wonder
(with no less apprehension) what will
become of me. I had plans, yes. I've
done my share of dreaming. I've even
earned a large share of money at one time
or another. I've seen a bit of the world.
['ve gained a considerable amount of
experience, both the hard and the easy way;
but what good is all this if I must go to
war, perhaps never to return again? War,
ignoble war - why do men and nations
behave this way?
Do you see those creases in my forehead?
Do you see that grave expression
on my face, and that bewildered gleam in
my eyes? Have you heard those glorious
tales of heroism and those equally repugnant
tales of woe, and crime, and shame?
Do you see that half-defeated soldier to be?
That's me! What influence does the war
have on me in 1942? I tell you I just
don't know what to do. I may be here
today, but tomorrow?
The realities of life have changed:
superficiality and celophanic artificiality
have clothed this world of mine for 1942.
Because of the present war the clashing,
the clanging, and the bloodshed have led
me to take a diferent perspective on life.
I walk around in a stupor, half-dazed, bevildered
,and amazed. My movements
are only mechanical, because I am constantly
thinking in terms of war; youthful
spirit and zest have left me. I represent
a portion of American youth - the eighteen
and nineteen year olds.
Big money paying jobs are scarce, that
is, for me. I am between the ages of
eighteen and twenty. "Uncle Sam needs
you worse than we do," so says the manuracturer,
but I have to live and so do all
the other youths of my age.
Don't get me wrong. If I could win
this war, I would gladly render my services
to this, my great country's cause.
I'm as patriotic as you or the next fellow!
There is nothing I'm more proud of than
this, my native mother land. I've been
clothed and reared and fed in her glorious
sunshine, and on her own soft bosom of
dewy grass and fragrant field. I've lived
a good life, but today - 1942 - I'm in
such a dither that I don't know what to do
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