No heroes

So I finally finished The Boys' Crusade, by Paul Fussell, which is a pretty devastating argument against war—of any kind, ever, for any reason. My father has made a thorough study of the book and written a detailed chart pointing out where his World War II experience and Fussell's overlapped and where they differed, and he's given copies of the book and his analysis as gifts to people who have helped him out over the past couple of years, particularly members of the Unitarian church who have driven him to his medical appointments at the VA. Seems like a not very cheerful gift, but relevant on such journeys I suppose. It's dispiriting reading, and I don't recommend it if you're already depressed.

But I was charmed by an addendum sent by my dad when he heard I was finally getting around to reading the book. It was a Wikipedia article on Fussell, with a description of his ex-wife's allegations of adultery highlighted in yellow, and in my dad's creaky, wound-blasted handwriting the words "This you must remember: There are no heroes."