It's an old ploy of the bourgeoisie. They keep a standing 'art' to defend their collapsing culture.
The war was a mirror; it reflected man's every virtue and every vice, and if you looked closely, like an artist at his drawings, it showed up both with unusual clarity.
I stood up as best I could to their disgusting stupidity and brutality, but I did not, of course, manage to beat them at their own game. It was a fight to the bitter end, one in which I was not defend...
Peace was declared, but not all of us were drunk with joy or stricken blind.