Remembrance Day Sketches
Today was Remembrance Day, a quiet day for us. Coming from a country that has seen much suffering and war, it is an emotional day. I am thankful for all the allied soldiers that rescued my people from the very worst of dictatorship. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
However, I also remember the stories how my grandfather had to die at age 27 of tuberculosis in 1952 which he contracted at a french POW camp. They didn't feed the german soldiers, so they ate any bug and worm that was in the earth; when exactly half of the soldiers had died of starvation or disease, they released the survivors. My father was just 5 years old when his dad died.
Late Opa Erich and my Late Oma Agathe with Papa Herbert and Uncle Rudi
The youngest brother, Ewald was too young and wasn't drawn, he took care of his mom; both had to survive two years roaming the Polish woods after being forced to leave their home. It was gruesome, he was being shot at after stealing a sausage from a Russian military camp and was lucky to escape.
My mom's parents also fled, Opa from Sudetenland and Oma from White Russia/Ukraine during the Great Purge under Stalin. Markus father fled from Schlesien. Here's a map of it all-crazy to think how many people just had to pick-up and leave!
Today I pray for peace, and for knowledge that people dig deeper than what the main stream media puts in front of them to see beyond, because the greatest dictator of the 20th century leashed the media to brainwash a whole people to follow blind his twisted ideologies.
Sorry, a longer post, just a bit heavy hearted today.... Simone
Opa Erich in hospital 5 weeks before his death
Die Nordamerikaner gedenken und feiern ihre Soldaten, die die Rechte und Freiheit der Nationen verteidigen;
und da sie wirklich die Freiheit und Demokratie der Deutschen Bevölkerung verteidigten und re-etablierten, bin ich sehr dankbar. Trotzdem erinnere ich mich natuerlich an die Geschichten aus meiner eigenen Familie, von Omas und Opas und Onkels, wie sie den Krieg und die anschliessenden Wirren miterlebt haben. Mein Opa ist mit 27 Jahren an TB gestorben 1952, da war mein Papa gerade mal 5.
Er war in einem französischen Gefangenenlager und wäre fast verhungert.
Drum, am 'Remembrance Day' bete ich immer fuer Frieden und dass die Menschen nicht blind irgendwelche eingetrichterte Ideologie annehmen. Es ist oft nicht einfach, die 'andere' Meinung zu verstehen oder zu viel Anstrengung tiefergruendig nachzufragen was uns die Massenmedien an 'News' vorsetzen.
Sorry, ein etwas laengerer Blogeintrag heute, etwas schwer ums Herz... Simone
Oma and Opa