Two Soldiers
Posted by christianrasmussen1981 on 15th February 2010
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IMDB rating: 7.60 Plot: Mississippi, just before Pearl Harbor. Two brothers, Pete, about 19 and Willie, about 10 years younger. They are clearly close friends. The news arrives, and Pete goes to enlist. Willie wants to come along, but is told he cannot. After his brother leaves, the boy walks 30 miles to the nearest town, where the sheriff eventually puts him on a bus to Memphis where his brother is. At the recruiting office, Willie proves even more determined to see his brother; eventually, sympathetic Col. McKellogg takes care of him. |
Actors: Furr Jonathan,Allison Ben,Perlman Ron,Andrews David,Pniewski Mike,Dawson Deacon,Vinson Danny,Hall David,Johnson D.H.,Wiggins Al,Hamilton Allan,Hendon Warren,Short,Drama,War,
Need Poetry Homework Help. What is author's intent for Ashes of Soldiers?
i am not creative. i cant think of a good answer. heres to poem so you dont have to look for it.
Ashes of soldiers South or North,
As I muse retrospective murmuring a chant in thought,
The war resumes, again to my sense your shapes,
And again the advance of the armies.
Noiseless as mists and vapors,
From their graves in the trenches ascending,
From cemeteries all through Virginia and Tennessee,
From every point of the compass out of the countless graves,
In wafted clouds, in myriads large, or squads of twos or threes or
single ones they come,
And silently gather round me.
Now sound no note O trumpeters,
Not at the head of my cavalry parading on spirited horses,
With sabres drawn and glistening, and carbines by their thighs, (ah
my brave horsemen!
My handsome tan-faced horsemen! what life, what joy and pride,
With all the perils were yours.)
Nor you drummers, neither at reveille at dawn,
Nor the long roll alarming the camp, nor even the muffled beat for burial,
Nothing from you this time O drummers bearing my warlike drums.
But aside from these and the marts of wealth and the crowded promenade,
Admitting around me comrades close unseen by the rest and voiceless,
The slain elate and alive again, the dust and debris alive,
I chant this chant of my silent soul in the name of all dead soldiers.
Faces so pale with wondrous eyes, very dear, gather closer yet,
Draw close, but speak not.
Phantoms of countless lost,
Invisible to the rest henceforth become my companions,
Follow me ever–desert me not while I live.
Sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living–sweet are the musical
voices sounding,
But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead with their silent eyes.
Dearest comrades, all is over and long gone,
But love is not over–and what love, O comrades!
Perfume from battle-fields rising, up from the foetor arising.
Perfume therefore my chant, O love, immortal love,
Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers,
Shroud them, embalm them, cover them all over with tender pride.
Perfume all–make all wholesome,
Make these ashes to nourish and blossom,
O love, solve all, fructify all with the last chemistry.
Give me exhaustless, make me a fountain,
That I exhale love from me wherever I go like a moist perennial dew,
For the ashes of all dead soldiers South or North.
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