Due Thursday: vocabulary 11
Gassed, 1919, by John Singer Sargent. One of the leading society portrait painters of his day, Sargent was commissioned to contribute the central painting for the Hall of Remembrance. Gassed is based on the scene at a dressing station as it took in casualties from a mustard gas attack on the Western Front in August 1918
Setting the stage for World War I and the literary movement known as modernism: http://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/history/euro-hist/world-war-I-tutorial/v/empires-before-world-war-i
In the trenches:
One way to understand the violence and slaughter that occurred in the Great War is to examine the number of casualties aand deaths. Exact figures are still in dispute, because of different definitions used each category, the questionable accuracy of the recording system used and the loss or destruction of a number of official documents. The data in the tables below reflect numbers from several sources and are consistant with most experts' current estimates. | ||||||
Country | Total Mobilized Forces | Killed | Wounded | Prisoners and Missing | Total Casualties | Casualties as % of Forces |
ALLIED AND ASSOCIATED POWERS | ||||||
Russia | 12,000,000 | 1,700,000 | 4,950,000 | 2,500,000 | 9,150,000 | 76.3 |
British Empire | 8,904,467 | 908,371 | 2,090,212 | 191,652 | 3,190,235 | 35.8 |
France | 8,410,000 | 1,357,800 | 4,266,000 | 537,000 | 6,160,800 | 73.3 |
Italy | 5,615,000 | 650,000 | 947,000 | 600,000 | 2,197,000 | 39.1 |
United States | 4,355,000 | 116,516 | 204,002 | 4,500 | 323,018 | 7.1 |
Japan | 800,000 | 300 | 907 | 3 | 1,210 | 0.2 |
Romania | 750,000 | 335,706 | 120,000 | 80,000 | 535,706 | 71.4 |
Serbia | 707,343 | 45,000 | 133,148 | 152,958 | 331,106 | 46.8 |
Belgium | 267,000 | 13,716 | 44,686 | 34,659 | 93,061 | 34.9 |
Greece | 230,000 | 5,000 | 21,000 | 1,000 | 27,000 | 11.7 |
Portugal | 100,000 | 7,222 | 13,751 | 12,318 | 33,291 | 33.3 |
Montenegro | 50,000 | 3,000 | 10,000 | 7,000 | 20,000 | 40.0 |
TOTAL | 42,188,810 | 5,142,631 | 12,800,706 | 4,121,090 | 22,062,427 | 52.3 |
ALLIED AND ASSOCIATED POWERS | ||||||
Germany | 11,000,000 | 1,773,700 | 4,216,058 | 1,152,800 | 7,142,558 | 64.9 |
Austria-Hungary | 7,800,000 | 1,200,000 | 3,620,000 | 2,200,000 | 7,020,000 | 90.0 |
Turkey | 2,850,000 | 325,000 | 400,000 | 250,000 | 975,000 | 34.2 |
Bulgaria | 1,200,000 | 87,500 | 152,390 | 27,029 | 266,919 | 22.2 |
TOTAL | 22,850,000 | 3,386,200 | 8,388,448 | 3,629,829 | 15,404,477 | 67.4 |
GRAND TOTAL | 65,038,810 | 8,528,831 | 21,189,154 | 7,750,919 | 37,466,904 | 57.5 |
War | Number Serving | Battle Deaths | Disease & Accidents | Wounded | Total Casualties |
Revolutionary War | NA | 4,435 | NA | 6,188 | NA |
War of 1812 | 286,730 | 2,260 | NA | 4,505 | NA |
Mexican War | 78,718 | 1,733 | 11,550 | 4,152 | 17,435 |
Civil War | 2,213,363 | 140,414 | 224,097 | 281,881 | 646,392 |
Spanish-American War | 306,760 | 385 | 2,061 | 1,662 | 4,108 |
World War I | 4,743,826 | 53,513 | 63,195 | 204,002 | 320,710* |
World War II | 16,353,659 | 292,131 | 115,185 | 670,846 | 1,078,162 |
Korean War | 5,764,143 | 33,651 | NA | 103,284 | NA |
Vietnam War | 8,744,000 | 47,369 | 10,799 | 153,303 | 211,147 |
Persian Gulf War | 467,539 | 148 | 145 | 467 | 760 |
A look at some World War I poets.
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)
"Anthem for a Doomed Youth"
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
--Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)
"Dulce et Decorum Est "
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our 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 tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped 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 I 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.
14. Does it Matter?
Does it matter?—losing your legs?...
For people will always be kind,
And you need not show that you mind
When the others come in after hunting
To gobble their muffins and eggs.
Does it matter?—losing your sight?
There's such splendid work for the blind;
And people will always be kind,
As you sit on the terrace remembering
And turning your face to the light.
Do they matter?—those dreams from the pit?
You can drink and forget and be glad,
And people won't say that you're mad;
For they'll know you've fought for your country
And no one will worry a bit.
DOES it matter?—losing your legs?... | |
For people will always be kind, | |
And you need not show that you mind | |
When the others come in after hunting | |
To gobble their muffins and eggs. | 5 |
Does it matter?—losing your sight?... | |
There’s such splendid work for the blind; | |
And people will always be kind, | |
As you sit on the terrace remembering | |
And turning your face to the light. | 10 |
Do they matter?—those dreams from the pit?... | |
You can drink and forget and be glad, | |
And people won’t say that you’re mad; | |
For they’ll know you’ve fought for your country | |
And no one will worry a bit. | 15 |
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