Large Fierce Mammal

Quite a while ago I mastered singing the song titled The Green Fields of France. It’s been recorded by many, but my favourite arrangement is this one by The Fureys. Not only do I enjoy the arrangement and the voice of the man singing it, but there’s one line in particular that always held a note of authenticity for me that others do not.

There’s a line in most versions of this song that goes, “I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen, when you joined the dead heroes in 1915 ….” Not this one. Instead, it goes, “I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen, when you joined the Great Fallen in 1915 ….” I will not stand for trivializing the sacrifices made by those who fought and often died so I can sit hear speaking the truth as I see it, and to my mind the title of “Hero” is thrown around entirely too easily these days. There are times and situations in history that few of us can even imagine, and those times raise the bar on who gets to wear the “Hero” badge. Some of those we recognize today are Heroes. That having been said, the fact that countless others simply did their duty without ever once meeting that moment of truth demanding of heroism doesn’t make their actions any less worthy of celebration, commendation, and the sincerest of thanks for doing everything they did.