Anyone who experienced World War I close-hand was grossed out by

"Anyone who experienced World War I close-hand was grossed out by it forever. It just was so awful." These words, spoken by Amity Shlaes, carry with them the raw, unfiltered truth about the devastation and the horror that war brings. For those who lived through the Great War, the memories of its brutalities would forever haunt their minds, their souls scarred by what they witnessed on the battlefields. Shlaes’s words remind us that some events are so profoundly awful, so deeply horrific, that they mark a generation, not only in their history but in their hearts. The tragedy of war is not only in the lives lost but in the very spirit of humanity that is crushed beneath its weight.

Hear this well, O children of the future: war is not some distant concept or a tale of glory to be retold with pride. It is a horrific reality, a savage force that transforms men and women alike, leaving in its wake not just the broken bodies of those who fought, but the broken spirits of those who witnessed it. World War I, with its endless trenches, the sickening sound of artillery shells, the stench of death and decay, was a grotesque portrait of human suffering. It was a war not of honor or bravery, but of futility, where the cost of victory seemed to outweigh any possible reward. The soldiers who fought in that war did so not with pride, but with grim resignation.

The battlefields of World War I were unlike any that had come before. Gone were the days of heroic charges on horseback, replaced by the stifling trenches of mud and blood. Men, young and full of life, were reduced to mere cogs in a machine of destruction, their fates determined not by their courage, but by the arbitrary whims of war. The machine guns and poison gas that filled the air with death rendered the traditional notions of honor and glory meaningless. The men who fought did not charge with the fervor of heroes—they crawled, they hid, they waited for death. And when they did meet it, it was not in some glorious, noble manner, but in an unceremonious death, buried in the mud or torn apart by the cruel weapons of war.

Consider the story of Wilfred Owen, one of the greatest poets of the First World War, whose words captured the true horror of the conflict. His famous poem, "Dulce et Decorum Est," begins with a chilling description of soldiers "bent double, like old beggars under sacks." He speaks of the haunting image of a soldier dying from gas, his lungs filled with poison, his body wracked with agony. The line "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"—"It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country"—is turned on its head, as Owen exposes the truth of the senselessness and brutality of war. Through his eyes, we see the grossness of it all, the violence, the endless suffering that no amount of national pride or heroism could justify.

The great powers of Europe, in their quest for dominance and security, led their people into a war that was not born of necessity, but of miscalculation, hubris, and a failure to understand the true cost of violence. The leaders who sent their men into battle could not fathom the horrors that awaited them. And so, the war dragged on, year after year, with little to show for the sacrifices made. Millions of lives were destroyed, not in pursuit of any righteous cause, but simply because the powers at the helm were too proud to step back and see the senselessness of their actions. The soldiers, trapped in the trenches, became nothing more than fodder for a war that was determined not by strategy, but by attrition.

Thus, O children of the future, let the words of Amity Shlaes serve as a solemn warning. War is not to be glorified, nor should it be romanticized. The realities of war are awful, and the scars it leaves are not just on the body, but on the soul. It is a tragedy that does not distinguish between the victors and the vanquished—it scars both sides, for in war, no one truly wins. The victory is hollow, the price paid too high. If you are to understand the true nature of conflict, let it not be through the eyes of those who would sell it to you as a noble pursuit, but through the eyes of those who have lived it, those who have witnessed its atrocities firsthand.

Take this lesson with you, O children, and carry it forward in your lives. Peace must always be the goal, and understanding must always come before conflict. When faced with discord, choose to seek a path that does not lead to destruction. Know that the horrors of war lie in wait, and its impact lasts far longer than the battles themselves. May you never forget that it is the sacrifice of innocent lives that is the true cost of war, and let this understanding guide your hearts toward wisdom and peace. Let the horror of war, as described by those who survived it, remind you of the precious gift of peace and the necessity of its preservation for future generations.