History repeats itself.

"In he tarpaper morgue at Chalons-sur-Marne in the reek of chloride of
lime and the dead, they picked out the pine box that held all that was left of...
...John Doe...
..the scraps of dried viscera and skin bundled in khaki
they took to Chalons-sur-Marne
and laid it out neat in a pine coffin
and took it home to God's Country on a battleship
and buried it in a sarcophagus in the Memorial Amphitheatre in the
Arlington National Cemetary
and draped the Old Glory over it
and the bugler played taps
and Mr Harding prayed to God and the diplomats and the generals and
the admirals and the brass hats and the politicians and the handsomely dressed
ladies out of the society column of the Washington Post stood up solemn
and thought how beautiful sad Old Glory God's Country it was to have
the bugler play taps and the three volleys made their ears ring.
Where his chest ought to have been they pinned the Congressional Medal...

- John des Passos, 1919

The American proletariat, divided, persecuted, assaulted, tormented and loathed have been sent off to die in wars time and time again. This only to build a national identity where the enemy is not the upper class that causes them to die in their hundreds and thousands, and to make sure that profits and power is retained by the same. What des Passos wrote in the beginning of the 20th century is as true as it is today. Some people labour so that others can get profits, some people die so others can have power.