When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
The Lost Generation are those born between 1830-1900 and include Ernest Hemmingway, F.Scott Fitzgerald, T.S Elliot and Eleanor Roosevelt.
Currently, we are at Generation Beta. Those born between 2025-2029

A.A.Milne, the creator of Winnie the Pooh wrote for adults too. Today’s DP brought this little poem to mind. There is also a book of the same name. ‘Now We are Six.
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.
A.A.Milne (1886-1956)

The following poem The Lost Generation was published in his book Behind the Lines, in 1940
YOU were the Lost Generation, decadent, nerveless, slack,
(Bom to the sound of the guns and of death dropping down from the air) ;
You slouched to your casual dates with a languorous curve to your back.
And we didn’t admire your manners, and loathed the length of your hair.
We stood in front of the fire-place and eased our stiffening hocks
(Wc who had fought in Flanders, we who had flown in France)
And damned the whole generation — you and your girlish locks ! —
Poor effeminate creatures, boys who had had no chance.
We pitied you more than blamed you ; what could you hope to be.
Born to the fear of war by frightened women, and then
Living your life with women whose men were over the sea ?
Taught to be men by women — how could you grow to be men ?
Youth of the Lost Generation, sons of the men that were.
Taught to be men by women who made you all that you are.
How could you grow to be men, who have grown to be gods of the Air,
Who have set in the skies for our nerving a flame of Faith like a star ?
Each night we crouch by the fire-place, and listen with tight-held breath,
Humbled to tears in wonder, strengthened to tears in pride,
As the Youth which we dared to pity makes casual date with Death,
“And, fired by a spirit we know not, goes off on its deathless ride.
With which salute to brave men I close. It is June now ; one of those lovely, still, country evenings, blue and green and golden ; such an evening as almost compels faith in the doubting, courage in the fearful, by the calm and steadfast assurance of its beauty. Italy is in the war. France has fallen. Well, we are alone. Much will have happened before these words are in print, but, be it good or ill, may we live and die as gallantly as those happy few, upheld by something of their spirit.”

Behind the Lines was a collection of poems written during the first nine months of World War II, serving as a sort of diary of the war’s early days. The poem “The Lost Generation” specifically praises the generation that was “raised by women” and made fun of during WWI, but went on to fight during WWII.

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