Remembering The Great

The Great War.
To end all wars.
The Great War, the Great Loss.
The Great Changes
The Great Fields. Fields with grass gone. Bare earth remaining.
The Great War, the Great Loss, the Great Cries of pain.
The Great Pain.
Great Tears of Great Pain.
Pain soaking the bare earth.
Nothing else remains.

Earth soaking wet.
With blood, guts, limbs, bones and shells.
Cannon fodder everywhere.
Becoming mud; the Great Mud.…

Calls for mothers and mates,
Bawls of Terror, Sobs in the Dark, fires lighting up the sky.
In the Fog of Dawn, the enemy invisible lurks, stings and burns….
Gasping for breath, gasping for air,
Men falling everywhere.

Stumbling and catching on wire,
Tearing of cloth,
Ripping of flesh.

Howls of Hurt,
Wails of Pain,
Muted by shells.
Viscera bared, squirting blood, gurgles of breath,
the squelch of feet heavy in the mud.

In the pale light of dawn,
Crows reclaim the air.
Whispers of life’s last warm breaths.
Glassy, sightless eyes.
Souls lost,
Live and Dead bodies
Left on Red Fields.
Red with blood drying in Deafening Silence;
no bullets and shells marring the skies.
Blood drying in biting cold winds.
The Great Grief on the faces of The Ones Left.

The Great War, the Great Loss.
Blood loss, youth loss, loss of generations.
Innocence, illusions shattered, orders lost forever.
Bodies wounded and deformed.
Souls left to recover,
Pick up the shattered pieces of Maimed Bodies and Fractured Minds,
Inside their Shells that remained.

Remember them. Learn from them.
Grieve for them. Respect them.
And never forget them.
The Ones who Perished.
And The Ones who Remained.




Hat_poppy_1914-2014When I first moved to the UK, I wondered why everybody wears a little poppy flower in November. Then I found out about #Remembrance Day. To be honest, I don’t think that we have a Remembrance Day in the Balkans as such. A pity.

I like that there is a time like that in the country I now call home (UK). I like it that the Brits remember and WANT to remember. People talk about it, about their and our past, passing it down through the generations. It needs to be talked about. It needs to be remembered. How else do we, younger generations, learn and choose a right path for ourselves and change our futures for the better? How would we pass the knowledge down to our children and grandchildren, together with the (harsh) lessons learnt from all the wars in our past?

I remember loving history and enjoying every moment of historical museum trips so much so that I would visit the exhibitions just by myself or with my father who explained how the guns exhibited would have been used. I read as many books about WWII as I could get my hands on as a child, which wasn’t many, but I reread them. Time and again.

Then times changed in the 1990s. I was growing up and reading about anything but the World Wars. Because another war was everywhere around me: in the newspapers, on TV and radio, on the faces of refugee teens who became my classmates…

I like remembering the past from ‘before my time’. Not only because I can learn from it through lives of other people still living, but because it makes me put things in the right perspective. It makes me appreciate everything I know and have today as an individual, as a part of a community, as a descendant of my grandparents and parents who were not so lucky and who suffered great losses during and after the wars.

I was very happy to come across a lovely book called “Danubia: A Personal History of Habsburg Europe” by Simon Winder in a local charity shop the other day. I bought it and started looking for some others on the Internet by some great authors who wrote about those times. I look forward to a good pot of tea, maybe some cake to go with it (if I’m good) and a good read herbal slimming pills.

I heal through remembering and take my hat off to the ones who gave their lives so we have a better today.

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