So much for evolution

I feel most humbled today.
That man, Harry Patch, the last living survivor from the trenches was laid to rest today. I feel as though a whole lot of knowledge and wisdom has been buried with him. I imagine him, as if I knew him. A man from a different era, a proper man. Who didn't question authority and just got on with his life. Who went straight to the battlefield not with the intent of killing innocent men, but just fighting for his country, his freedom. Yes, a real man.
I pity him so much. These past few years, he must of wondered to himself as he saw the media and ventured down the streets, 'what the hell was it all for?'. I mean, look at the state of everybody. Everything. It's rubbish.
I know that he was a firm believer that war is futile. I think that's a direct quote. But who will echo his words now he is gone? The government send man after man after replacement into a battle that plagues the news everyday, yet, has nothing to do with us. And definitely, no conclusion. Just as the armistice was agreed on upon a table, maybe if we just left the middle east alone, then it in turn, would leave us alone, and more blood would not have to be shed mercilessly.
These wars cannot be compared. Although, you must salute the good men of the armed forces today sent to Afghanistan and Iraq to fight for 'freedom'. But, it's not our freedom. The white flag with the withdrawal from Iraq went almost under the radar. But I don't believe these men are fighting for Queen and country, their wives and their children. Mainly because they're not, they're fighting a 'terrorist regime'. The 'enemy' of the first two world wars were not terrorists. They were just like us. They read the same literature as us, drank the same wine, almost shared the same bed time. Not like these middle easterns and their backwards mentality. (That of course, is just my own personal opinion.)
It breaks my heart to think that the memories of one of the greatest wars ever fought is slowly but definitely fading away into dust. It brings me a real sense of my own mortality, as one day (God willing), I'll see the last survivor from the second world war lay in his final resting place.
All those stories, all those lessons. Gone. If we cannot learn from history, then we will be forced to repeat it.
I really wonder what it would be like to put one of those underage drinkers from down the square back in the trenches those ninety odd years ago. Just to prove how pathetic and worthless humanity has become.
But here. I raise my glass to a fine, honorable man, who at least helped me to life. May he finally be at peace, and reunited with all those he lost throughout his life.