Captured in Bournemouth, passed through two photoshop filters
Being used as my avatar on facebook amid despite controversy
I have been accused of being disrespectful to “our” veterans.
The only member of my family who actually fought in one of the “great” wars died.
He had no choice as to whether to fight or not: he was conscripted.
He left behind a wife pregnant with a daughter he would never see, and, as the only son, the family name died with him.
The other veterans in my family were innocent civilians.
My father, a teenager too young to fight, pulled the unexploded bombs out of the houses in his home town. Hardly a week went by without one of his cohort dying in the effort to save the home of a neighbouring family.
As both the Russians and the Allies advanced on the city, my father had the task of getting his mother, sister and baby brother to safety. Those women who were unable to leave the city were raped, from tiny little girls to ancient grandmothers – and I am asked to honour the veterans among whom there are men who raped these innocent women.
I am told that I should honour them because they ‘saved’ the world from Hitler.I should be grateful that we had a “safe” country to land in. Had the allies not decimated the country I was born in, we would not have had to leave.
After the war was over, the Allies took the pulp and paper company that my grandfather had founded and built away from him as part of the reparations, thereby necessitating our leaving our native land.
I should honour the veterans?
I proudly display the white poppy as my prayer for peace. It dishonours no-one.
War dishonours every-one
My poppy will stay on my wall until after that day, because I pray for peace. I pray that our sons and daughters, our grandsons and granddaughters and all of yours too will not have to fight either on their own soil or anyone else’s
I pray that no-one will have to witness, as my father did, the way a pilot and his gunner toyed with a civilian bicyclist riding down the road, dive-bombing and strafing him until the finally managed to hit the bicycle – a nasty bloody game that ended in the death of an unarmed civilian man at the hands of Allied bullies after they had tormented him in a game far uglier than cat and mouse.
I pray that no more white flowers will be stained with the blood of the fallen
I pray that the earth will never again run with rivers of red
This is my prayer for now and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow