Their stories marked in puckered land
That bore the brunt of broken shells.
We’ll never let them slip away
For if we do, we’re on a downward road
To hellish worlds where history repeats
And death and sadness take their front row seats.
I drew this picture a couple of years ago and I’ve only ever shared it on my personal facebook page. So I thought that I would put it up today as it gives me the feels, so I hope it has the same effect on a few others.
I didn’t really appreciate what these people gave while I was growing up. It was such a distant idea, that teenagers could be putting their lives in danger to protect their country.
But then I went to the Belgian war graves and memorials and my whole world felt as thought it had been shaken up. I was sixteen and it was November. I remember going to Tyne Cot War Cemetery and the silence just hitting us like a solid wall.
We all left the warmth of the coach where there was laughter between friends and stepped out into the cold cemetery and it was like entering a different world.
Just as I started to walk through the graves, the snow started to fall and I could feel myself swelling with all of the emotions a person of that age could feel. There was fear and sadness on the one hand, but also thankfulness and pride on the other. It was a very strange feeling while also being so young.
I hope that the future generations also take the time to go and learn this history because the worst thing that could happen would be for the stories to be forgotten. That is when the same mistakes are made again, and that is what we all should fear.