"All wars are planned by older men In council rooms apart, Who call for greater armament And map the battle chart. But out along the shattered field Where golden dreams turn gray, How very young the faces were Where all the dead men lay. Portly and solemn in their pride, The elders cast their vote For this or that, or something else, That sounds the martial note. But where their sightless eyes stare out Beyond life's vanished toys, I've noticed nearly all the dead Were hardly more than boys." Grantland Rice Elkington's Remembered _www.elkingtonfamily.com_ (http://www.elkingtonfamily.com/)