Nobody wrote more beautifully about the history of conquest and adventure than Theodore Roosevelt. Nobody wrote more poetically about war and glory and empire than Rudyard Kipling.
In the end, though, these things left them grieving the sons they loved so much. Roosevelt lost his son Quentin, shot down over France. Kipling lost his son Jack in the trenches in 1915, so destroyed by “shot and shell” that they never identified the body. Roosevelt was broken by the loss of his eldest boy and followed him soon to the grave. Kipling, who had written “If” to his son when he was just twelve years old, would write one of his last poems in grief: “Have you news of my boy Jack?”
Not this tide.
“When d’you think that he’ll come back?”
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
These were tragic, devastating events that no parent should ever have to experience. But it’s also indisputable that these two great men were not blameless in their occurrence—not only because of the pressure and impossible expectations they put on their children but because they were part of a generation that had encouraged, celebrated, and glibly supported the policies that led to the carnage that claimed their sons.
It’s a cautionary tale for all parents. Our generation, just like all past generations, makes decisions in the present that have consequences borne primarily by future generations. Our children and grandchildren will live in
the world created by your choices . . . and you yourself may live long enough for it to break your heart.