A Workingman’s Meditations: “We Appreciate It.”
In time of peace the “leading citizens” give us horny-handed working people the cold gaze—socially. We are not invited to dine with them—socially, or dance with them—socially, or otherwise visit with them—socially. They say we are ignorant and coarse-grained—socially; and they turn us down “cold and hard”—socially, in time of peace. But in time of war these “very best people” don’t neglect us so much—and we appreciate it. Then the “best people” give us glad, stimulating glances and speak up kindly—and we appreciate it. They tell us we are brave and intelligent and patriotic—and we appreciate it. They tell us that soldier clothes look good (on us)—and we appreciate it. When our newly enlisted working class company are ready to go away to war the bankers and the other big business men chip in a quarter apiece to get the brass band out to give us a “send off”—and we appreciate it. The bankers and the big business men and the band go down to the railway station with us: we grin, then they smile—and we appreciate it. As our train of dirty old second-class coaches pulls away we look out through the car windows and see the bankers and the other leading citizens waving their soft white hands and sweetly smiling at us, saying, “You are the very thing”—and we appreciate it. The “best people” know we are going to feast on embalmed beef and show our patriotism: they wipe their eyes sympathetically—and we appreciate it. The “best people” modestly and courteously remain at home in order that we working people may have all the honor and glory of butchering and being butchered—and we appreciate it. The “best people,” with beautiful forethought, give us working people the blessed privilege of leaving our homes lonely, leaving our wives desolate and widowed, our children orphaned—and we appreciate it. The “leading citizens” fraternally let us working people do the fighting and the bleeding and the dying for the country—and we appreciate it so much. With gracious manner these “prominent people” show us a “hot time” and tell us to “go to it”—and we appreciate it. With melting tenderness the “very best people” give us working people the “hot air” and the “frosty lemons”—and we begin to appreciate the trick.
When the southern slave-driver gave the slave fifteen lashes instead of sixteen the slave appreciated it.
Reader, in nearly every country in Europe, in America—in all parts of the civilized world—the workers are having their eyes opened. They begin to understand the crafty flattery of the dollar-marked patriots who never get on the firing line.
A special warning to the working class of the United States:
Open wide your eyes, brothers—and sisters.
The next trick-to-the-trenches is being prepared.
There is talk of peace—but preparation for war.
For more than twenty-five hundred years the great sea wars have been fought on the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. The bottoms of these oceans are strewn with shattered ships and human bones.
But the vast butcherings at sea in the near future will probably be, most of them, on the Pacific Ocean.