Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada)

 - Class of 1929

Page 47 of 110

 

Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada) online collection, 1929 Edition, Page 47 of 110
Page 47 of 110



Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada) online collection, 1929 Edition, Page 46
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Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada) online collection, 1929 Edition, Page 48
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Page 47 text:

THE OAKWOOD ORACLE ing itself to the end of time? We live in a new age, it is time for a change. Youth may be immature, untrained, impetuous. Youth may be unable to offer a perfect international solution. But we are convinced that what we need is not merely a group of nations, bound together by treaties, which admit war as even a last resort, but a world court, to which all international disputes may be submitted, with a definite under- standing that such disputes shall be settled by an appeal to reason and justice. Our boys in the great struggle of 1914-18, went forth to die in a war to end war. They died that we might live and that war might cease forever. Shall we break faith with those who sleep in Flanders' Fields '? Let me paint you a picture: Time: May, 1929. Place: Anywhere where the military spirit dominates. And the bands will play-and the citizens will cheer-and the mothers will beam-and the officials will swell with pride, as gallant youth fares forth in military parade. Over- head: The spotless blue of the sky. Beneath their feet: the emerald green of the grass. Everywhere, the beauty of spring. The world is at peace. Turn backward, O time in thy flight. Time: May, 1918. Place. The battlefields of France. No bands there-no cheering spectators- no beaming mothers-no intriguing diplomats. Overhead: the monoton- ous, unceasing, drizzle of rain. Underfoot: a soggy morass of mud. Everywhere, screaming, blinding, seering, hell. The world was at war. Somewhere funeral dirges were playing. Somewhere sweethearts wept bitterly. Somewhere mothers sobbed quietly. Somewhere behind the closed doors of safety, Militarism was counting the cost, and was shiver- ing a bit at the cold Frankenstein it had loosened on youth. They call these May-day parades grand military spectacles. We call them mockery. We call them Hypocrisy. We call them ignorance. We call them crime. Mockery, because they keep alive the military spirit. and mock the lives of our boys who died that war might cease. Hypoc- risy, because they tell us that the power to kill is the right to kill. Ignor- ance, because they are blind to a better way. Crime, because they teach us that history repeats itself, that human nature cannot be changed. that individuals, and races, and nations, must forever beat each other's brains out, on the gory anvil of Mars. Militarism told the youth of 1914, that patriotism, virtue, and hon- our, were calling them to destroy the youth of other nations. Militarism told youth that this was a holy war-a war to make the world safe for democracy. Youth went out and bathed its soul in blood. It came back and laid its booty on the green peace-tables of Versailles, and men and women the world over declared there must never be another war. But the war demon has again crept from its hiding place, and is telling the youth of to-day that we must prepare for the next war, that we must learn how to bombard and destroy the enemy cities, that we must learn to pour shell-fire and poisonous gas into the homes of terror- stricken women and innocent children. All this in the name of liberty, democracy, civilization,-because the1'e is not a better way. Must we go through it all again? VVill the world never learn? Shall the war spirit continue to dominate our governments, our homes, and our institutions? Are truth, beauty, and wisdom to be sold for a mess of pottage? Page Tlzirfy FlI'l'f'

Page 46 text:

TH E OAKWOOD ORACLE Qlbe Rochester Gull! Mahal QBratiun The Youth Movement in Its Attitude to War By S. Leroy Toll One of the most striking and significant movements of the present day is what is known as the Youth Movement, and believing that I represent the spirit of the youth of to-day, Ihave decided to address you on the subject. The Youth Movement in its Attitude to War. I know you will not all agree with what I shall say, but for the moment, forget any prejudice you may have on the subject, and listen to the attitude to war from the standpoint of a boy. I may be wrong, but in my own heart I am convinced that the Youth Movement is right in its attitude to war. Three or four years ago, the Youth Movement within the colleges and universities declared itself opposed to war as a method of settling international disputes. Since that time the agitation for no more war has grown by leaps and bounds. More editorials have been written dur- ing the last year on the outlawry of war, than had ever been written be- fore. Many persons are becoming convinced that war should never be engaged in even as a last resort. Even as duelling has been superseded by an appeal to the courts, so it is suggested that war should give place to an international tribunal, a court of judges selected by the nations. The Youth Movement of to-day does not agree that the best means of preventing war is to prepare for it. Instead of preventing war, we know that preparations for war are almost sure to precipitate war. Never in history were preparations so complete or so widespread, as dur- ing the fifty or sixty years p1'evious to 1914, and yet, never were wars so frequent as in that period: France fought Italy: Germany fought in turn Denmark, Austria and France, there were the Russia-Turkey, and the Russia-Japan wars: and many wars in the Balkans: the Spanish- .-Xmerican war: wars in China: and British wars in Afghanistan, Abyssinia, Egypt, and South Africa. Think of the colossal cost of modern war both in lives and wealth. The killed and maimed in the last war were counted by millions, and the amount of wealth destroyed was no less staggering. The cost of the artillery bombardments, previous to the launching of the infantry at- tacks in the battles of Arras, Massines, and the third battle of Ypres, cost over S260,000,000. And these were only three operations in the Great War. War has become, in short, a most detestable thing. It is almost, if not quite, as disastrous to victor as to vanquished, levying its enormous toll of death upon the nations involved, and plunging their children, and their children's children, into an almost hopeless morass of debt. If another war should come, explosives will be used such as have never been imagined before. Shells will be exploded not only on the bat- tlefield or in the fortified place, but in the home cities of the people, where women and children, homes and hospitals, statesmen and paupers, will all be brought down in ruin together. Deadly poison gases will be thrown from the skies upon defenceless cities, and all life therein will be 1-Xltrmlllzlltfl. llisease germs will also be used to destroy the enemy. War will no longer be a sort of gallant adventure, but an impossible thing, too terrible for civilization to indulge in and survive. We honour those who in the wars of the past have nobly given them- selves in sacrifice, but is the youth of the world to go on, nobly sacrific- Pngr yvllllffjl-1'vll'llI'



Page 48 text:

'PHE OAKWOOD ORACLE We know there is a better way. War must not and shall not be. We demand that this medieval monster, this destructive demon, this cruel slayer of youth, this enemy of peace and progress, which has thrust itself forward into the twentieth century, shall be smitten to the death, never more to lift its gory head among the nations of the earth. . In the event of war, it is youth that is sacrificed, youth pays the price. and youth should deal the cards. - illtmlugbt Now comes the twilight hour Vanish the sounds of day, After the day, All the birds gone, And the red streaks of light Only a single note Slowly decay, Echoes along While night's soft voice to sleep Of some old mother bird's Calls us away. Lullaby song. Murmurs the flocks low bleat Up in the tender blue, Over the lea, Deep and afar, Where in the clover sweet Just as the harbour lamps Hushed is the bee, Gleam o'er the bar, As after surge and foam Shine th.e fair lights of heav'n Sleepeth the sea. Star after star. Sleepeth the wide world now Under the skies While 0'er each sleeper watch Sweet angel eyes: And when the night is gone Morn will arise. OLIVE SIMPSON, -111. w sf yy all MQ 1150214 M ,lvl vgigziiglm if lr 7 , ,ff 'll kj aim 7:-ff '7fl'iWE3Q1f 'Y 2755 f I' ' W3 ie-ef! tu , A , ef? if l fx Erliyfu I t S I A I gb C .X , V, Q une pints ll l 154: A,lri' ii l My Prfyr' Tlzirfy-S1':1:

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