The Poet Englishman Owen's take on war.
On November 4, 1918 a week before the Armistance,
Second Lieutenant Wilfred Owen was killed in battle nears Ors, France.

War is allways sad.. He left this poem..

At A Calvary Near the Ancre.
One thing hangs where shelled roads part,
In this war He too lost a limb,
But His disciples hide apart;
And now soldiers bear with Him.

Near Golgotha stroll many a priest ,
And in their faces there is pride
That they were flesh-marked
by the Beast
By whom the gental Christ's denied.

The scribes on all the people shove
And brawl allegiance to the state,
But they who love the greater love,
Lay down their life ; they do not hate.

------ Wilfred Owen....

War is allways like hell.. Wars are allways sad..
No matter the cause............
Can't wait till they all end....