Chapitre 18: Chapter 18

Ben Wake

Dulce et Decorum Est... One of my favorite poems from my first Great War, the one from 1914 to 1918, penned by Wilfred Owen. The poor man was cut down by the anonymous violence of machine gun fire exactly one week – almost to the hour – before the end of the war while crossing a canal. The title refers to an even older line from the Roman poet Horace, written over two thousand years ago. Owen referred to it as the Old Lie. Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori, "It is sweet and proper to die for the fatherland."

I finish reading the poem to Ivy, and put the book down. It is our third night in the cabin, and she wants to know more about my past.

"Is that really what it was like for you?"