One death is a tragedy. Thousands of deaths are a statistic.
The heartless dismissal of human life is often attributed to Josef Stalin. But it is held in some quarters that Stalin was quoting from a novel by German journalist, satirist and pacifist Kurt Tucholsky. A fictional diplomat says: “The war? I cannot find it to be so bad! The death of one man: this is a catastrophe. Hundreds of thousands of deaths: that is a statistic!”
At this time of year, with Remembrance Day approaching, we are obliged to honour the fallen and the victims, while trying to comprehend the immeasurable toll of conflict.
Kurt Tucholsky (1890-1935), who was Jewish, had warned about the anti-democratic movement in Germany in the 1930s, his worst fears being confirmed when the Nazis came to power in 1933. His works were banned and burned. He would later take his own life.
The callous disregard for humanity displayed by Tuckholsky’s character is regularly reflected in real-life wars. It is much easier to attack foes if they are faceless, dehumanized, lumped together as a monolithic threat. War veterans have said that landing on a mine-filled beach was bad enough; hand-to-hand combat still gave them nightmares, decades after they came home from the front.
It is a dangerous and angry world out there. But there are some human, individual stories that can touch even the coldest hearts.
Over the decades, certain singular moments have resonated with the masses.
There have been various versions of the Thousand-Yard Stare, the image of a bloodied, stunned soldier looking into space, an empty, vacant look on his face, the face of a survivor who has been through hell.
The photo of the “Napalm Girl” horrified the world in 1972 and became a defining image of the Vietnam War. A naked and badly burned nine-year-old girl, later identified as Phan Thi Kim Phuc, was shown escaping a napalm attack, amidst a smoke-filled scene of chaos and death. The photograph reflected the wholescale and indiscriminate destruction that claimed an estimated one million civilians. She would later recover and become an advocate for peace.
America knew it has losing the war in Vietnam when Walter Cronkite delivered his report in 1968. The most trusted man in the United State of America, the CBS Evening News anchor concluded the war was at a stalemate, prompting President Lyndon Johnson to say, “If I’ve lost Cronkite, I’ve lost Middle America.”
During the “living room war,” the world could witness unfiltered TV news reports of terrified GIs hunkering down during the Tet Offensive. Images of the young soldiers praying to go home further eroded support for the war back home.
Alan Kurdi was three years old when the Syrian boy and his family fled that country, planning to join relatives in Canada. Early Sept. 2, 2015, the family crowded into a small inflatable boat in Turkey, en route to Greece. A few minutes later, the dinghy capsized. Alan, his brother and his mother all drowned. A Turkish news photographer began shooting the “children’s graveyard.” Alan’s tiny body washed up on the shore, half in the sand, half in the water. His sneakers were still on his feet. He became the symbol of the countless numbers of desperate souls who died seeking refuge in the West.
Testimonials of victims of old conflicts are now accessible through online resources.
For example, in recent years, concerted efforts have been made to preserve the accounts of Holocaust survivors. The intheirownwords.net/canadian-survivors page is a collection of some 1,200 testimonies, presenting the horrors of war through various lenses — resistance, Kristallnacht, deportation, camps, rescuers.
About 40,000 Holocaust survivors resettled across the country after the war.
No Veterans of the 1914-1918 First World War are alive today but you can still hear their firsthand stories. Go to veterans.gc.ca/en/remembrance/people-and-stories/heroes-remember
The database provides insight into the experiences of the many ordinary Canadians who answered the call to serve in uniform over the years.
Video interviews recall the savagery and madness of trench warfare.
Soldiers recall their first gas attack. They had no masks; they covered their faces with wet handkerchiefs; many succumbed on the spot.
At Passchendaele, a battalion went in 700 strong; 75 returned. Men died when they fell into a shell hole and drowned. Horses were mired in muck. Freezing soldiers, after surviving gas and artillery bombardments, broke ice in a ditch so they could shave. The troops cursed the officers who had forced them to go over the top in such dreadful conditions.
The World War II veterans’ ranks are thinning. However, there are still many Canadians who served in more contemporary conflicts, such as Korea, the Gulf War, Afghanistan and in peacekeeping missions.
It seems there is never a war shortage. High-tech weaponry has radically changed the nature of warfare, obviously. But there will always be a need for human combatants.
This year, we will have another way to “put a face” on the courageous men and women who made the supreme sacrifice for our freedom. The Cornwall Royal Canadian Legion (RCL) Branch 297 has launched a Memorial Banner program whereby the photos and names of deceased service members will be displayed on banners along Veterans Walk, between Second Street and Legion Memorial Park.
Take some time to look at those faces and say thanks.
If you cannot meet a veteran in person, there are many other ways to pay your respects. There are many Armistice Day ceremonies in the region. Buy a poppy. And at the 11th hour, of the 11th day of the 11th month, try to be silent for a few seconds.
