Author: Samantha

This novel stands as one of the early works among many World War I narratives that adopt a soldier’s viewpoint. What sets this story apart is its deviation from the conventional “happily ever after” ending, as it concludes prematurely before the supposed author could finalize it. What I found particularly intriguing about the novel was its ability to present a variety of distinct perspectives. This could be attributed to my limited understanding of the subject matter. Prior to my encounter with “All Quiet on the Western Front,” my exposure had primarily been to accounts from British soldiers, which often carried a heavy bias against their German counterparts.

In the face of death and the unmitigated brutality witnessed by soldiers, where there was no individual culpability, but rather the opposing side as a whole, the Germans were often portrayed by the British as heartless executioners. In truth, they were just as profoundly affected by the war as the British soldiers. The ordinary young men turned into soldiers, stripped of their childhood innocence. To some degree, I found it challenging to empathize with the Germans because I had not come across anything suggesting that they were anything other than the merciless adversaries they were portrayed to be. However, this novel allowed me to gain a more comprehensive perspective. It aided me in humanizing the German soldiers and distinguishing individual experiences from collective judgments.

Despite hearing about the death of millions numerous times during my study of World War I, it remained difficult for me to truly grasp the magnitude of the tragedy. I believe this is because most accounts are written from the standpoint of survivors. This narrative often perpetuates the misconception that death was a rare occurrence. As I progressed through the pages of the novel and developed a stronger connection with the characters, the death of the main character at the story’s conclusion served as a stark reminder of the grim normalcy of death on the Western Front.

I wouldn’t consider myself an openly empathetic or emotional person. Through the intensely gruesome imagery, I assume the film had a pacifistic intent. The concept of educating the youth on the past to prevent repetition is not at all new or a topic of personal interest. The film followed the motions of any war documentary beginning with the men’s excitement, the culture shock of the battlefield to the ends of themselves or their comrades’ lives. I did not find this film any different nor more effective than the last. I digress, through mulling over the film I contemplated multiple topics that I could discuss such as respect for service members, manipulative war propaganda, and the importance of community in adversity but nevertheless, all seemed too basic and overdone. Sifting through ideas and notes brought me to the topic of empathy and even further sympathy. The question arose of if I could end the life of another individual.

I have never faced death or vaguely the idea of death. Nobody I have had a strong connection to has passed away. I do not know what it is like to suffer the loss of someone. This concept alone makes it easier to say yes, in principle. In principle, it’s trivial, as trivial as it would be to pull the trigger, no? Pulling the trigger, and making the decision to end someone’s life means looking into the petrified eyes of another human being and making the decision to steal their life and all its possibilities. Killing someone is to have the understanding that your face is the last face that they will see before their entire world goes quiet. There is forever going to be a debate about the necessity of WW1, but it is unanimously agreed necessary or not death during WW1 was inevitable. The phrase just another number of the death toll was used in the film hearing this quote said so plainly and so frankly took me by surprise. I assume it was hard for the soldiers to compartmentalize that much death so much, so it became inconsequential. Each and every number on that death toll is a man or woman, each with their own hopes, dreams and aspirations for after the war. Aspirations that will never be fulfilled due to the trivial action of pulling a trigger, thrusting forward a bayonet, unclipping a grenade or signal to deploy gas.

In the future career that I aspire to attain as disgusting as it may sound the death of another individual at my hand will be inevitable some could even say necessary. In the conversations I have with other people or myself about ending the life of another individual it is easy to say that I would. I say this because yes is just a word, saying yes is just as easy as pulling a trigger, right? I would like to imagine myself as the type of person to hold the emotional diligence and indifference to any human life besides my own and the people I hold close to me. This is simply far from the truth. Often times if I ever imagine myself ending the life of a human being I attempt to justify the act by calling it self-defence, revenge, revenge is a sick topic in itself. To kill someone, absent of any feeling of remorse or guilt for me personally incomprehensible. I don’t know whether I agree or disagree with the training to void of this aversion to ending one’s life.

This begs the reconsideration of the question “Would I be able to end the life of another individual?”. The short answer is yes, yes I could end the life of another individual. Having said that the guilt would be enough to mourn a thousand deaths. The guilt would eat me alive; the guilt would fully consume me. The blatant murder of another human being would violate everything I stand for, it would completely obliterate my personal moral code. The guilt I would feel is not the guilt you feel after you say something mean or the guilt of failing a test. The guilt I would feel is classified as neurotic guilt. There would be no escaping it, the deed is done. The life has been ended.