I once read in a dictionary that the word "war" derives from Anglo Saxon for "worst". It is a superlative condition and an explicitly human artifact. No wonder
"Johnny Got His Gun" and "All Quiet on the Western Front" were so unpopular with the political crowd. We in the West have gone to great lengths in our present wars to minimize our own casualties lest our populations become too squeamish. It's still seen by many a young man as a great adventure. And so it is. But they all discover the drudgery of it and its erosive power to kill the soul. No one dares tell the truth at the recruiting office.
I will never know war the way you do and reading this made me think that I am still blessed that I do not go through that hard times. This poem shows how much you are affected by it and how you have somehow accepted your fate but remains strong. This is such an inspirational piece.