Today was Remembrance Sunday. It inspires all kinds of thoughts about man's inhumanity to man, though today I think I saw more posts pitting dueling war poets against each other than actual memorials to the fallen. Eventually, someone gloomily remarked in a comment thread somewhere that war didn't seem to have been any better when it was fought by poets.
This site has a number of photographs of what, exactly World War I did to the landscape in Europe. All those trenches, and bombs, and the eventual destruction of explosive caches literally pocked the landscape, so almost one hundred years later, the earth has not recovered.
Never mind that every plowing season, the land yields bones instead of rocks, but large stretches of it, as at Verdun, above, is unplowable, ripped up by conflict.
The current American fad for using drones may be cowardly, and would almost certainly be illegal if the US wasn't the 400 pound gorilla at the UN, but I can quite see why a general may prefer to call a "surgical strike" instead of sending ten thousand men over the top to die, as repeatedly happened during WWI. Literally millions died - it's unthinkable. Less than a hundred years ago, too. My grand-dad fought in that war. He lived through it, and I don't remember him ever saying a word about it. Not all the soldiers were poets.