Hi, You said it well.I remember this war poem by Thomas Hardy from when I was in junior high: The Man He Killed Had he and I but metBy some old ancient inn,We should have set us down to wetRight many a nipperkin! But ranged as infantry,And staring face to face,I shot at him as he at me,And killed him in his place. I shot him dead because--Because he was my foe,Just so: my foe of course he was;That's clear enough; although He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,Off-hand like--just as I--Was out of work--had sold his traps--No other reason why. Yes; quaint and curious war is!You shoot a fellow downYou'd treat, if met where any bar is,Or help to half a crown.Thomas Hardy I always found this poem rueful, and it makes me feel a kinship with the English.
Thanks Carol,I sort of remember that poem, it's very true. Yeah, we're all human. Calling us by another name doesn't change that.Helm.
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