II Maccabees 12: 43 – 45; I Thessalonians 4: 13 – 18; John
11: 21 – 27
This is the homily given
at Grace & St. Peter’s Church in Baltimore, Maryland by Fr. Gene Tucker on Sunday,
November 11, 2018. This homily was given
on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I.
“IT
WAS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES”
(Homily texts: II Maccabees 12: 43 – 45, I Thessalonians 4:
13–18 & John 11: 21–27)
“It
was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” So wrote Charles Dickens in
his novel, “The Tale of Two Cities” fifty-some years before the onset of World
War I, a conflict that was known (primarily before World War II) as the “Great
War” (not because that war was wonderful – it wasn’t – but because of its
enormous size and scope). World War I was also known as the “War to End all Wars”,
which it certainly didn’t: Historians
tell us that the seeds for World War II, which began about twenty years after
the end of the first war, were sown in the outcomes of the First World War.
As we
think about this conflict, it might be good if we would step back into history
a little to recount some of the things about the First World War that were
good, that is, the “best of times” (for indeed, there were some things about it
that were good). And we would do well to remember those things about the war
that were horrible, the “worst of times”, for there was much that was simply
awful.
To
set the stage for our journey back 100 years or more, I’d like to begin by
telling a true story which might shed some light on our perspectives today
about World War I.
On
the 75th anniversary of the end of the war, in 1993, the U. S. Army Chorus,
of which I was then a member, took part in a ceremony marking the end of the
Great War. In attendance were a number of veterans of that first war, all of
whom were then in their 90s. They were seated (some in wheelchairs) along the
front row of the audience. The guest speaker on that occasion was an Assistant
Deputy Undersecretary of Defense. As the remarks began, the speaker looked on
those veterans seated in the front row and said something like, “We owe a
tremendous debt of gratitude to you veterans of World War II.” Almost
immediately, these nonagenarians raised their canes and their hands and said
(loudly) “World War I”. “My apologies,” the speaker said. We in the Chorus were
amused, though we tried not to show it. On the speaker went, and a little
later, he said it again, “And so we honor you veterans of World War II.” Once
again, these veterans raised their canes and their hands to say (louder this
time), “World War I”! With this second mistake, there was audible laughter.
Twenty
five years later, this incident still evokes a smile. But beyond the humor
involved, there is a deeper truth: World War I has been largely overshadowed by
the much larger, much more deadly conflict which took place from 1939 – 1945.
Perhaps we focus on World War II so much because many of our parents (and maybe
even some of us here this morning) were veterans of that war. The world we live
in today has been shaped by the experiences of World War II. But the world we
live in has also been shaped by the outcomes of World War I.
Let’s
go back in time, then, to the time of the Great War.
As
the war began in July, 1914, no doubt many in Europe thought it was the “best
of times”: After all, Europe had been at peace for forty-three years, since the
conclusion of the Franco-Prussian War in 1871. That period of time was known as
“La Belle Epoque” (the beautiful epoch). It was a time of complacency and a
time of belief that human society was destined to experience continual and
uninterrupted progress.
However,
the notion that human beings could solve any and all problems was shattered.
Two events served to remind us human beings that we didn’t know everything, and
that we were still capable of making huge mistakes. The first event that
removed the blinders was the sinking of the HRMS Titanic in April, 1912. Then,
just over two years later, World War I began.
The
truth is that, during that period of time prior to the start of the First War,
there was a lot going on that, once the war began, would prove to the world
that modern warfare creates the “worst of times”. For example, long range,
highly accurate artillery had been perfected. In World War I, it was artillery
that caused the greatest number of casualties. The perfection of the machine
gun contributed to the deadliness of modern warfare. The invention and use of
aircraft also contributed to the deadliness of combat, for aircraft were used
to direct artillery fires, and they were used for bombing and in dogfights.
Beyond
the advances in weaponry, there were simmering animosities at work among the
European powers: France longed to get revenge on the Germans for their
experience in the Franco-Prussian War, and to regain territories lost to the
Germans. The Germans were convinced of the military superiority of the Prussian
military. These are but two examples. Added to these animosities is the fact
that much of Europe was interconnected by treaties that, once conflict began,
dragged the nations into the war, one-by-one.
Once
hostilities broke out, the warring nations expected that the conflict would be
the ‘best of times”, a short, relatively easy victory.
Instead,
the war became the “worst of times”.
Some
sixty million served in the militaries of the warring nations. Of that number,
between eight and ten million were killed (this only an estimate…..the true
number may never be known.). Another seven million were permanently disabled,
while fifteen million were seriously injured. If you’re keeping score, those
numbers add up to about one half of the total number who served. Some nations
fared worse than others: Germany lost about two million killed and four million
disabled, constituting about fifteen per cent of its active male population. In
Austria, seventeen per cent were casualties, and in France, the number was
about ten per cent. In Russia, the totals of killed, wounded, disabled or
captured amounted to almost three-quarters of the total force.
Though
the United States entered the war late, in April, 1917, over four million
served, of whom three million were draftees. Our country’s losses in the war
were about fifty three thousand killed, sixty five thousand who died of
disease, and another two hundred thousand or so who were wounded or disabled.
The U. S. took a leading role in the last offensive, the one that brought the
war to an end, the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, which lasted from late September,
1918 until the Armistice on November 11, 2018. In those forty seven days of
fighting the U. S. lost 26,000 killed and 117,000 casualties, out of a total of
1.2 million who were involved.
The
Gross Domestic Product of the nations on the losing side declined between
thirty and forty per cent. It is estimated that, in Russia at the conclusion of
the war, and during the time of the Russian Revolution which grew out of the
war, between 4.5 – 7 million children were homeless.
All
of these numbers are staggering.
Man’s
inhumanity to man was on full display. Our ability to create was turned toward
the business of destruction.
Indeed,
it was the “worst of times”, for the world had never seen such widespread
conflict: We think most often of the
European theater of operations, but we would do well to remember that there was
fighting in the Holy Land, in the Judean hills and around Jerusalem, and in the
Sinai Peninsula. There was also military activity in the Far East.
Despite
all this grim news, there are some things to say about World War I that
constitute the “best of times”.
For
example, the United States took the lead in improving care for the wounded.
Volunteers from our country set up hospitals in France. One was called the
American Ambulance Hospital, located in Paris. American doctors, nurses and
staff there worked to save lives. We also organized motorized ambulances (some
were based on Model T Fords) into something called the American Ambulance Field
Service so that wounded soldiers could be transported to field hospitals more quickly.
By the end of the first year of the war, about 100 ambulances were in service,
all funded by private donations. Harvard University had 55 men involved in
driving ambulances, 21 of whom were killed. By the end of the war, 48
universities had personnel involved, totaling 2,500. Many lives were saved as a
result.
Doctors
realized the dangers of infections that made their way into the body through
wounds. So antiseptic solutions were developed that were more effective in
combating infections. (We would do well to recall that antibiotics such as
penicillin hadn’t been invented yet.) Surgical techniques involving facial
injuries were improved. Better use of anesthetics helped with surgeries. Our
own Johns Hopkins School of Medicine was involved in some of these
developments.
Of
these efforts, and American doctor, Mary Merritt Crawford (the only woman
doctor to serve in the early efforts to help the wounded) wrote, “A war
benefits medicine more than it benefits anybody else. It’s terrible, of course,
but it does.”
The
Red Cross engaged in various kinds of relief work, and worked to ensure that
prisoners-of-war were cared for.
Millions
here at home served faithfully, including those who were drafted. Many women
took jobs in factories and elsewhere to fill vacancies left by men who had left
to serve in the military. Following the war, relief organizations worked to
care for widows and orphaned children.
These
efforts didn’t eradicate the horrors of the war, but they do show the best side
of humanity.
As
Christians, what might we say about the First World War, or – for that matter –
any and all wars?
One
truth that emerges is that we human beings are created in the image and
likeness of God, as we read in Genesis 1: 26–27. That means that we are endowed
with the gifts of memory, reason and skill.
We
are gifted with the ability to remember, to look back, to reflect. It is
important, on this 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War, to
look back and to see what made it the “worst of times”. How did the combatant
nations blunder into such a calamity, a calamity – as best as we can describe
it – that was one without an overarching purpose? In the midst of such an awful
time, we can also remember and give thanks for those who served, those who lost
their lives, those who were disabled, and those who, like the staff of the
American Ambulance Field Service and the American Ambulance Hospital, worked to
put the broken pieces of soldiers’ lives back together again.
We
are endowed with the gift of reason: We can look at a situation or situations
and figure out how the pieces that are involved fit together. We respect to the
causes of war, this is the gift of wisdom. We do well – as we reflect on World
War I – to apply wisdom to our assessment of what was ill-advised and what was
not.
We
are supplied with skill. In World War I, the skill we human beings possess was
used for destructive purposes, but also for constructive ones. May we receive
the wisdom to know the difference and to seek to apply ourselves to the use of
our skills to improve the lives of others.
Our
appointed lectionary readings for this morning point to the great hope of the
resurrection of the dead. As our Lord rose again victorious over death on
Easter Sunday morning, so too do we believe in this wonderful promise. For as
the Prayer Book says, “Life is changed, not ended.” Those who rest in Christ
await the time when new life will emerge.
A
voice from World War I is that of Wilfred Owen, a British soldier and poet who
was killed one week before the Armistice took effect. He was 25 years old. Many
of his poems are well known and are still widely read. This one, entitled, “At
a Calvary near the Ancre” was used in Benjamin Britten’s oratorio, the “War
Requiem”. If you are familiar with the War Requiem, you’ll recall that Owen’s
poem is interspersed with the Agnus Dei of the Requiem Mass. Own’s poem
describes the scene of a crucifix that stands near a road crossing. One of its
limbs is missing, blown off by an artillery shell. Here is its text:
One ever hangs where shelled roads part.
In this war He too lost a limb,
But His disciples hide apart;
And now the Soldiers bear with Him.
Near Golgotha strolls many a priest,
And in their faces there is pride
That they were flesh-marked by the Beast
By whom the gentle Christ's denied.
The scribes on all the people shove
And bawl allegiance to the state,
But they who love the greater love
Lay down their life; they do not hate.
Agnus
Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam.
Amen.