TODAY we remember the casualties of war. They died or were wounded in combat, and from other causes such as disease and mental trauma. They died at the front, while back home broken-hearted loved ones emotionally died with them.
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Such a massive scale of futile slaughter and despair.
The short Gallipoli campaign in 1915 killed and injured almost 30,000 Australians, 8000 New Zealanders and almost 74,000 British. The Turks suffered more than 250,000 dead or wounded. The cost of this World War I side show was equivalent to two thirds of Tasmania's current population, dead or wounded.
Horrific, senseless losses, for no tangible benefit other than an acceleration of inevitable industrialisation and technological change.
While we honour the sacrifice, it is difficult to fathom the pyrrhic and monotonously aggressive behaviour of humans on this tiny planet.
The Great War to end all wars killed or maimed almost 40 million, or almost twice Australia's current population. And then, if we somehow hadn't got the point, the sequel in 1939-45 killed and maimed a further 80 million.
How bizarre that in this enlightened age we reflect on the primitive brutality of 100 years ago, and yet war has persisted as a recurring theme of the 21st century. There are few years, or even months, free of conflict in the so-called modern era.
The senseless slaughter goes on, in the name of power, territorial ambition and religion.
The super powers possess enough nuclear arsenal to destroy the planet many times over. It is a wonder they haven't done so already. Perhaps therein lies a glimmer of hope.
The fact that we pause to remember and never forget is cause for that small glimmer of hope. That, aside from the insane extremism of marginal organisations such as ISIS, the world is still capable of remorse.
Go to your ceremonies today and remember the fallen. Take heart that the introspection may inspire us for a better life.
