Left - March for Peace, Washington DC March 15
Below are the Ramblings of Tim White, not the Mt. Horeb Area Historical Society.
People were told in the build-up to the war in Iraq, dissent is unpatriotic, and that all that matters is Support of the Troops and a blind allegiance to our foreign policy. Personally, I will not advocate to what I know is wrong, and my support for American forces is my dissent. (Here is a link to some interesting faqs on our involvement in Iraq.)
Before the war, I went to Washington DC for a weekend of workshops for peace and a nonviolent demonstration against our aggressions in Iraq. The event was sponsored by the organization Code Pink. (Here is a link to Code Pink.) Thousands of women and men from all social, political and racial backgrounds marched to the White House. I was honored to be a part of event. The women of Code Pink who have been fighting for peace have my respect. (Here is a link to article on the event )
Below is a Robert Service Poem from "Rhymes For My Rags" published in 1956. It is an interesting poem, it is from a dead soldier talking of her mother, (definitely NOT a code pink mom!)
Spartan Mother
by Robert Service
My mother loved her horses and
Her hounds of pedigree;
She did not kiss the baby hand
I held to her in glee.
Of course I had a sweet nou-nou
Who tended me with care,
And mother reined her nag to view
Me with a critic air.
So I went to a famous school,
But holidays were short;
My mother thought me just a fool,
Unfit for games and sport.
For I was fond of books and art,
And hated hound and steed:
Said Mother, 'Boy, you break my heart!
You are not of our breed.'
Then came the War. The Mater said:
'Thank God, a son I give
To King and Country,'--well, I'm dead
Who would have loved to live.
'For England's sake,' said she, 'he died.
For that my boy I bore.'
And now she talks of me with pride.
A hero of the War.
Mother, I think that you are glad
I ended up that way.
Your horses and your dogs you had,
And still you have today.
Your only child you say you gave
Your Country to defend . . .
Dear Mother, from a hero's grave
I--curse you in the end.
