Wired

 

Barbed wire as we know it was patented in 1874.  Indians called it Devil's Rope, others called it thorny fence.  It changed the wild west to something more manageable.  Wire was the cheapest way to build a fence, not wood, not stones.  It's been used in pastures, prisons, battle fields, and protection.  I wonder how many pants and shirts I've torn holes in through the years, and I still wear a scar on a finger from the time I lassoed a calf too big that ran through a fence and dragged me with it.

In the famous novel All Quiet on the Western Front the man telling the story says, "We have to go on up to wiring fatigue."  I didn't know what he meant until a few pages later when he tells this, "Two men hold a roll and the others spool off the barbed wire.  It is that awful stuff with close-set, long spikes. I am not used to unrolling it and tear my hand."  Luckily, I've never been on a battlefield to experience men hanging from it who got snagged and shot.

Millions of horses were used and many died on those same battlefields.  That same book tells of the suffering of the horses, such as, "The cries continued.  It is not men, they could not cry so terribly.  'Wounded horses,' says Kat.  It's unendurable.  It is the moaning of the world, it is the martyred creation, wild with anguish, filled with terror, and groaning.  We are pale.  Detrich stands up. 'God!  For
God's sake!  Shoot them.'  He is a farmer and very fond of horses.  It gets under his skin."

...

 

Thirty-eight years ago today the wife and I had quite the experience, that is later on in the day I could call her my wife.  Yup, today's our anniversary, so I will be extra nice and take her out to supper tonight, probably the Texas Roadhouse.  I must have chosen well because the years have sure passed by fast.