…..the futility of war, evocations from the subconscious
Futility by Wilfred Owen
Move him into the sun—
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields half-sown.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.
Think how it wakes the seeds—
Woke once the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth’s sleep at all?
I made this sequence of images back in 2008 at a time when allied forces were involved in the second Gulf War and tensions were running high. It wasn’t a conscious decision to visit for that reason but looking back now, I do wonder what might have been happening on a more subconscious level.
It’s a place we drove past on our way to Cambridge many times over the years, the Stars and Stripes flying high, beckoning, a symbol of national pride. On this occasion I had my camera and decided to stop and visit. I felt awkward, self-conscious, a place for quiet and respect. I snatched a few images and left with a sense of sadness.
For me this small set of images conveys a certain poignancy and disquiet as I review them now; the symbolism of cemeteries with roses, cypresses, water lilies adding to this feeling. The curving lines of the graves creating an atmosphere of calm, the national flag emoting pride and honour whilst the austere lines of the chapel strike a different note somehow.
Eleven years on, in 2019, I just wonder where humanity is heading. Conflict affects all corners of the globe but has changed in its execution. Cultures and nations clash, violence and death seem normalised; so many lives affected by loss, soldiers forever traumatised.
Wilfred Owen captured the senselessness of it all perfectly during WW1, ‘The War to End all Wars’.