I read All Quiet on the Western Front for English class in 10th grade. During high school, I did not often read books all the way through. I remember, though, making a point to finish this one. The book, as well as the movie, are haunting in the worst, most effective kind of way. As much as I hated it, hated the experiences that Paul went through, hated the circumstances he lived in, I could not help but keep reading. I think that America is like Germany is in this text; we glorify the military, we glorify our soldiers and what they go through, failing to grasp the damage that we bring upon them in fighting wars. War and those who choose to fight it are truly selfish and deeply inconsiderate of the fragility and importance of humanity. Going to war did not and does not make men heroes. It scars them, damages them in a way that can never be fixed, forces them to confront the darkest aspect of humanity while simultaneously refusing to give them the time or the tools they need to process it. Soldiers on the battlefield are no more than playing pieces for those who choose to go to war. They are not complicated lives, with feelings, emotions and real, rational fear. Instead, they are a means for inflating the ego of the men at the top, who themselves would never step foot onto a battlefield. Soldiers lose their individuality, their humanity, for the sake of a nation whose leaders don’t care about them or what’s right. We glorify our soldiers as heroes, but to give them that title we throw them to the wolves. These are people who are cogs in a system that willfully ignores the sanctity of human life. Governments intentionally rid soldiers of individuality and fuel them on this sense of pride in one’s country, one’s nation, but I don’t know that I could ever respect a country that sends its people to certain death if they have some other choice. All Quiet on the Western Front is an important reminder that there is no glory in war, in killing other human beings, in fighting on the front lines. There is only horror.