To Die for Own Country

(Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori — is a line from the Roman lyrical poet Horace’s Odes (III.2.13). The line can be roughly translated into English as: "It is sweet and glorious to die for one’s country."  )

OROP is not for the money. It is for the lost prestige, or should I say, It is for the lost prestige that was and is being deliberately manipulated scam by the bureaucrats with the active connivance by the political leadership of independent India. Both connived to degrade the military, for India got its independence very cheap; by Bapu’s “Ahimsa”.  
All those nations who fought their freedom by paying for their blood respect the worth of military like USA, UK, France, Germany or any other country in any of the continents.
Here I reproduce a poem by Wilfred Owen, MC, an English soldier of I WW vintage. Please note and read particularly the last stanza of the poem. Thank you. …………..Shiv Rana
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Dulce et decorum est
By Wilfred Owen


Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.-
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

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About Shiv Rana

A veteran of the Indian Army.
This entry was posted in My years in Olive Green popularly kmown as OG and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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