Sketch: Lessons of slaughter, 100 years on It isn't only the thought of what happened in the First World War that haunts. It's the thought of what happened in the year or two before it. Because what happened, for most people in Britain, was nothing much: normal life, mundane joys, familiar miseries. Work, school, marriage, parenthood, church, dances, cricket, books. Think of the British in 1913, going about their innocent lives, utterly unaware of what was about to hit them. Think of them dining, gardening, strolling, smiling. In two years will come the centenary of the War's outbreak. And so, on an ordinary boring Thursday in peacetime London, traffic hissing through the drizzle, David Cameron visited the Imperial War Museum to announce his plans for commemoration. On the wall behind him stood a painting by Paul Nash of the trenches. Cratered mud, barbed wire, shattered duckboards, pools of stagnant rainwater. Limbless tree trunks black and charred like bodies. Perhaps it would be unfair to criticise the Prime Minister for beginning a speech on history's bloodiest slaughter by saying, "This is an exciting time for one of the finest museums in the world." There's no doubting the sincerity of his feelings about the War, nor his commitment to ensuring that its centenary is properly marked. To go by his speech, though, you might wonder whether his attitude to the First World War is a little Rupert Brooke-ish, all honour and sacrifice. To quote Mr Cameron: "The sheer scale of sacrifice... the sacrifice and service... extraordinary bravery... courage... This was the extraordinary sacrifice of a generation. It was a sacrifice they made for us... I'm sure he knows there was more to it than that. This was a war like none before it not only in scale but in waste, the waste of years, money and above all blood. It was at times cretinously mismanaged. Millions died for little obvious gain. As much as the Great War was tragedy and horror, it was farce. Each man who fought in it was not just a hero, he was a victim, a victim even if he came back alive. Those lucky to have their arms and legs were cursed to have their memories. Mr Cameron paid solemn and decent tribute to our men's sacrifice, but it might be more true to say that it was their leaders who sacrificed them. The Government, he said, would spend over £50million in total. There would be national commemorations for the day Britain joined the War (August 4, 1914) and the first day of the Somme (July 1, 1916). Funding would be given to state schools for research projects. The Imperial War Museum would have new galleries devoted to the War. Mr Cameron concluded by saying it was our duty "to ensure that the lessons learnt live with us for ever." Will they? Do we all agree on what those lessons were? The last veteran is dead. Without having been there we can only imagine. In 2014 we will pause to think about horror of a magnitude we cannot truly comprehend, and God willing never shall, because to do so we'd have to go through it ourselves.