It’s Not Over, Over There

Forty years after the Armistice: and a young American serviceman, stationed abroad, writes wonderingly, What on earth was it all about?

Having perused a number of provocatively orthodox notices of the fortieth anniversary of Armistice Day, I am moved to make a few comments of my own. I make these few jabs now, rather than four hundred years from now when an authoritative evaluation will be possible, if only because we have the judgment of Lord Russell that there is likely to be no four-hundredth, or even hundredth, anniversary at all, what with H-bombs and Sputniks and all the other fruits of progress which understandably alarm octogenarian Liberals.

JF

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J. D. Futch

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Forty years after the Armistice: and a young American serviceman, stationed abroad, writes wonderingly, What on earth was it all about?

Having perused a number of provocatively orthodox notices of the fortieth anniversary of Armistice Day, I am moved to make a few comments of my own. I make these few jabs now, rather than four hundred years from now when an authoritative evaluation will be possible, if only because we have the judgment of Lord Russell that there is likely to be no four-hundredth, or even hundredth, anniversary at all, what with H-bombs and Sputniks and all the other fruits of progress which understandably alarm octogenarian Liberals.