Frank McGuinness's play Observe the Sons of Ulster Marching Towards the Somme is, I think, above all else a meditation on war--what it's for, what it does to men, why it won't go away. This powerful tale of eight young men from Ulster who go off to France to fight in World War I has a sad and potent resonance.
The men are a diverse lot, but they have in common a fierce pride that finds expression in the rituals of warfare. The one we meet first is Kenneth Pyper, and we encounter him some sixty years after the fact, an octogenarian railing against God for the terrors He let him witness in battle and the wasted lives of his comrades who died at the Somme. (Historical note: the Battle of the Somme, which began in July 1916, was the bloodiest and most unsuccessful Allied offensive in World War I, with more than a million casualties in five months on both sides.)
We then flash back to 1915, to a makeshift barracks in Ulster, in the north of Ireland, where Pyper first meets his seven platoon-mates. Unlike them, Pyper is arrogant and monied and jaded; he claims to have enlisted only to get killed. In a scene healthily loaded with testosterone, we learn that Pyper is clearly, as someone pegs him, the "rare" man in this group, though not necessarily for the reasons we initially suspect.
In the play's longer second act, Pyper discovers what is to be gained from bonding with his fellows, and he also emerges as their de facto leader by the time they are ordered back to the front for the fateful battle that will also be, for most, their tragic last stand. From George Anderson and Nathaniel McIlwaine, Pyper learns about the Noble Cause: both are dyed-in-the-wool Ulster Protestants, dead set against the "Fenians" (Catholics) getting anything close to an upper hand in the governance of their homeland. Christopher Roulston and Martin Crawford demonstrate the awesome power of the Church, pro and con, the one a lapsed preacher, the other a determined pragmatist. Lifelong friends John Millen and William Moore show Pyper the strength of genuine fellowship, each in his turn rising above circumstance to aid the other. And from David Craig, Pyper learns about love, which they discover in one another only gradually (though you suspect that they suspect it as soon as they meet).
Lessons in the sanctity of human life; lessons in the reasons we fight: for God, for Country, for our fellows, for our heart. This is, for me, a way into the complex brilliant mass of this extraordinary play; you may find another. The important thing is to look.