Richard Aldington, "Death of a Hero".


Part I

Before I begin to read this novel I thought I should give some background on myself. I am not a great literary critic, but for the sake of this assignment. I will pretend to be one. I have personally been to the WWI battlefields in France, and spoken to a witness that was there at the time of the battles. I can only say it frightens me to think of the massive depravity of the human existence. That we can, and did, and continue to do such things to one another...

I have begun reading the prologue and something struck me as very true and mirrored the way I felt. When he talks about the track' of Winterbourne's life shinning brightly for at least a while, and the people he thought would mourn him. The fact that his name is on a war memorial somewhere, and a headstone in France. Coupled with the four people he thought would mourn and remember him. I'm guessing he was quickly forgotten and It reminds me of the way my father was forgotten.

My father was killed in Vietnam. It's a bit of long complicated story, and if I thought you were interested at all, I would tell you it, but this is about Winterbourne not me. Let's just say when I was forty-five years old I visited my fathers grave for the first time. I was protected from his death my entire life. His name is on the Vietnam wall, and a virtual wall on the internet that an old acquaintance of my father wrote,' He was good baseball player in high school and he was a good kid'. That's it. That's all I know about my father. Someone who was supposed to have such a profound effect on my life, is seemingly forgotten by everyone. So utterly forgotten, that even I, meaning what could have been the most profound thing in a young Childs life, never even new he existed. Completely removed from my life that if I hadn't searched for him like Jesus, I would never have found him at all. I found my father lying like a buried treasure with the map to his location written solely on my heart. It wasn't until I stood above his grave, that I knew who he was. The treasure was found, but it will remain forever buried. Buried by those closest to me with lies and broken ties to him. Those that should want to remember chose rather to hide him from me. They continue to do so to this day. Sorry I just had to get that out.






A Hero's Death

I stand up on broken ground
A mid the storm I do confess
a hero's death that made no sound

The treasure that I have found
Buried so deep life can't undress
Sin like rain is pouring down

Whispers and lies are all around
Won't help those left to clean the mess
A hero's death that made no sound

Struggles to break the lies that bound
In vain I would not stand for less
Sin like rain is pouring down

Left with a mind that is unsound
A life of love I could not bless
A hero's death that made no sound

I realize now my heart does pound
too late to lift the damage and stress
sin like rain is pouring down
a hero's death that made no sound