White drop in ocean of red
I wore the white peace poppy on its own again this year. I would find it hard to wear the red military version given the spin most militarists put on the world wars. Fortunately, I had uncles, wounded not killed, who came back in 1945 believing their generation was sacrificed for their elders’ political incompetence. They took issue with the idealistic claim that war preserves our way of life; rather, it undermines it. Surely our futile involvement in Afghanistan repeats the lesson for the current generation.
If you can convince even one militarist to wear a peace poppy along with the blood red version, I might reconsider. Until then, I’ll be a happy white drop in an ocean of red.