The Fallen Tree

I’ve been reading through some comments (and a few posts, I suppose), and it got me thinking about something I wanted to write. Much has already been said about war - and to be honest, I don’t think I can add much to what’s already been covered, especially with all the heartfelt takes people have shared. But I do have something to share, albeit from a slightly different angle: war movies.

War is often shown to us in a glorified light - justified, even disturbingly romanticised. We’ve seen it splashed across the big screen in box office hits, or passed down more quietly at home: by word of mouth, by the hearing of the ear, as we sat sprawled around the hearth listening to tales of heroism and sacrifice - fireside stories that have lured young men into senseless conflict for generations.

I’ll admit (somewhat shamefully) that I grew up enjoying watching war movies. Back then, it was all about the theatrics: the explosions, the drama, the spectacle. I was young - perhaps too young to recognise the subtle (and not so subtle) brainwashing baked into them.

I was fed stories that paint war as noble, necessary, and heroic - that dying for your country is the highest form of honour. But it’s all a façade - a carefully gilded wrapping that conceals messy truths, hides the horrors, and brushes aside the painful reality: that war has become an instrument that wastes youth and leaves nothing behind but ghosts.

Image Soure

Of course, I’m not denying that there are indeed real stories of valour - of soldiers who acted with integrity, who showed courage under unimaginably difficult situations. These things do happen. One such story, which made headlines in my hometown, involved a young soldier who found himself surrounded by terrorists. Because of the complexity of the situation, instead of requesting a rescue, he asked his superiors to bomb his location. That’s an extraordinary act of bravery. As courageous and heroic as it was, it doesn’t change the fact that lives were lost - lives that could have been.

However, when viewed more broadly, we begin to realise that even the most heroic acts can't make the overall tragedy any less devastating. They don’t balance the scale, nor do they justify the cost.

I get that war is morally complicated. It’s never as simple as good versus evil. Governments lie, and frequently, it's the innocent who pay the price. But the stories we were told rarely touched on the grey areas - they preferred the oversimplified version: heroes and villains, rather than the messy truth in between.

Because of this, I’ve become extra selective about war films. It’s been quite a while since I watched a new one - the last one I saw was Edward Berger’s All Quiet on the Western Front. So, let’s unpack this one a bit. Beyond its superb cinematography (which is genuinely impressive), what I deeply appreciate is that the film avoids clichés like dramatic speeches or the noble victories we’ve been so overfed with. Instead, it shows the truth: the cold, hard, brutal truth. Perhaps as hard and jaw-shattering as the biscuits soldiers were forced to gnaw on just to stay alive…

Additionally, what I find remarkable about the film as a whole is how it strips war of its romanticised façade - no subtle justifications, no heroism whatsoever. Just mud, terror, and the slow realisation that nothing about war is noble. And then silence… but then again, isn’t that how war often ends? A silence that doesn’t echo, yet speaks volumes.

I understand those who were outraged (especially those unfamiliar with the book it was based on) by the film’s ending, where the protagonist, Paul Bäumer, dies moments before the Armistice is declared. He died on a quiet day. (I’m more than pissed off about Katczinsky’s death, though - perhaps it was an attempt to paint French farmers as the villains. Who knows.) But maybe that’s the point - maybe that’s exactly how the director wanted it portrayed. It’s pointless. It’s absurd. Just like war has always been.

Maybe it’s time we stop looking for heroes in the bloodshed… or glorifying bloodshed with heroes smothered in it, and start asking why there was blood at all.

To close, here’s something to mess with your day:
“If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”