If any mourn us in the workshop, say We died because the shift kept holiday.

Epitaphs of the War

Epitaphs of the War: 1. Batteries Out of Ammunition

Body and spirit I surrendered whole
To harsh instructors – and received a soul. . .
If mortal man could change me through and through From all I was – what may the God not do?

Epitaphs of the War: 2. The Wonder

Faithless the watch that I kept: now I have none to keep.
I was slain because I slept: now I am slain I sleep.
Let no man reproach me again, whatever watch is unkept – I sleep because I am slain. They slew me because I slept.

Epitaphs of the War: 3. The Sleepy Sentinel

If I had clamoured at Thy gate For gift of life on earth,
And, thrusting through the souls that wait, Flung headlong into birth –
Even then, even then, for gin and snare About my pathway spread,
Lord, I had mocked Thy thoughtful care Before I joined the dead!
But now?. . . I was beneath Thy hand Ere yet the planets came.
And now – though planets pass, I stand The witness to Thy shame!

Epitaphs of the War: 4. The Rebel

Laughing through clouds, his milk-teeth still unshed, Cities and men he smote from overhead.
His deaths delivered, he returned to play
Childlike, with childish things now put away.

Epitaphs of the War: 5. R.A.F. (Aged Eighteen)

Headless, lacking foot and hand, Horrible I come to land.
I beseech all women’s sons Know I was a mother once.

Epitaphs of the War: 6. Unknown Female Corpse

I could not look on death, which being known, Men led me to him, blindfold and alone.

Death favoured me from the first, well knowing I could not endure To wait on him day by day. He quitted my betters and came Whistling over the fields, and, when he had made all sure,
“Thy line is at an end,” he said, “but at least I have saved its name.”

Epitaphs of the War: 7. The Coward – 8. The Favor

ON A PANEL IN THE HALL OF THE INSTITUTE OF JOURNALISTS We have served our day.

Epitaphs of the War: 9. Journalists

Soprano: Elisabeth Burmeister
Trumpet: David Deacon
Piano: John Austin Clark

Rudyard Kipling’s collection Epitaphs of the War was inspired by his direct experience with World War I. Kipling was a staunch supporter of the British war effort, using his celebrity to spread war propaganda for the British government as well as serving as a reporter in the French trenches. His son, John Kipling, was sixteen years old at the start of the war. Inspired by his father’s patriotism, John tried to join the Royal Navy and then the army but was rejected by both due to his severe short-sightedness. Rudyard, however, insisted John go to war. He used his political clout to land John a position as Second Lieutenant of the 2nd Battalion, Irish Guards. Within a matter of weeks, the newly 18-year-old fell in the Battle of Loos on French soil. Rudyard and his wife, Caroline Starr Balestier, traveled to France in search of their lost son, but to no avail. For the rest of the War, Kipling would process his grief, guilt, and frustration with Britain’s performance on the war front through the creation of Epitaphs. Modeled on The Greek Anthology, Epitaphs of the War is comprised of epitaphs and epigrams of fictitious people who each represent some facet of those Kipling met between 1914 and 1918.
My goal in setting Epitaphs was in part to memorialize this period in Kipling’s life. As the project continued, however, I also wanted to use this as an opportunity to explore the traumatic effects of blind patriotism. I view this cycle as the story of two soldiers, separated in time, in WWI. The first soldier, represented by “The Wonder,” “The Sleepy Sentinel,” and “The Rebel,” is a proud patriot who joins the military of his own volition, hoping to find a stronger sense of self. He falls asleep at his post and, as was custom at the time, is executed by the State. He then spends the rest of eternity questioning God about his fate, and the fate of humankind. The other character, represented by “The Coward,” and “The Favor,” follows the short life of a citizen who, as the war drags on, is conscripted to the armed forces. He knows he cannot desert the army but cannot stand the horrors of war. Wanting to preserve his honor, he puts himself directly in the line of enemy fire and achieves his freedom. The four songs that bookend these characters utilize themes drawn from British military music of WWI. These Greek chorus-style reflections lean on God Save the Queen, The Last Post, Royal Air Force March Past, and ends with the trumpet using morse code to wire the Journalist’s final message, “We have served our day.” – Luke Honeck, composer

No.6 Unknown Female Corpse

Luke Honeck Music

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