World War I: Wilfred Owens

Like Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen's war poetry was shockingly realistic as it shamelessly uncovered the horrors associated with World War I. Owen's personal experiences on the frontline of battle must have definitely influenced the tone and content of his poetry. In his Anthem for Doomed Youth, Owen successfully portrays his theme of the horror of war as he writes in a very sorrowful, bitter tone. This poem writes of the innocent lives taken by the war, and laments their unnecessary deaths. 

From the moment the poem begins, the soldiers are described as "cattle" as they are slaughtered unrelentingly in the battlefield (1100). Each line in the first stanza of the poem tries to dehumanize the soldiers by stripping them of any significance or individuality, allowing the reader to feel remorse for their lives as they read into the harsh reality of the soldiers situation. 

"Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons (1100)."

These lines convey that only the guns can be heard, and "only" the guns are accounted for in the midst of this battle. This is because the guns, the weapons of killing, are responsible for the deaths of many. The guns are described as holding a "monstrous anger"- giving this weaponry human-like emotions and characteristics. Perhaps, Owen does this to further protect the soldiers' innocence, outlining that although the soldier may hold and fire this machinery, they cannot be held responsible for the inherent deadly power associated with such weapons. These guns are so powerful and clamorous that they even cover the sounds of prayer. The soldiers lose more hope and significance, as the guns not only take away their power and individuality, but they also silence their prayers. Owen goes on to speak of the improper burial given to the fallen soldiers. When they die, they are given:

" The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires (1101)."

Owen compares the situation around the soldiers death with a funeral proceeding. He compares the noises of battle to "choirs" and "bugles," but his disgusted tone shines through when he writes these noises to be "demented" and "wailing." Owen shows such abhorrence for this unethical treatment because even though these soldiers are dying for their country, showing unimaginable courage and patriotism, they are treated as if the are useless, and their deaths absurd, undeserving of a proper burial. For nothing even mourns their loss other than the sounds of "wailing shells" coming from the weapons that killed them. However, as Owen speaks of the memory of the soldiers, he conveys a little more hope in the situation:

"What candles may be held to speed them all?

Nor in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds (1101)."

Although in the midst of battle, the soldier is given no recognition or significance, his loved ones with the memory of him, shall mourn his death. The funeral of these soldiers do not occur in the battlefield but instead within the grieving of their loved ones. I really loved this last stanza because it showed that although the war is terrorizing and horrific for the soldiers, they can be laid to rest as they are mourned by all of those that have memory of them. They are honored in the tears of their survivors. The poem begins with the soldier's death as insignificant and forgotten, as if one more causality is just impersonal and anonymous. Owen concludes conveying the significance of the individual fallen soldier, each with a family and loved ones whose weeping mourns the loss of their soldier in the most significant way. In this way, the soldier's situation may seem hopeless in the midst of battle, but their courage and sacrifice provide hope for the entire nation they protect by fighting, and for this reason they cannot be forgotten.  

Right now, I am in Washington D.C. and last night I walked along the Vietnam War memorial where there is a wall where over 50,000 names of fallen soldiers are listed. This poem with that experience allowed to to realize that although I may never be able to comprehend the horrors of war, I am capable of joining many others in appreciating the soldiers who have fought for our country with unimaginable courage. To these soldiers I believe we have a solemn obligation to show honor for their bravery and ultimate sacrifice.