I am always affected by the sad stories that come out of our attempts to give order to Afghanistan. I have always been saddened by deaths from combat in the many countries where our forces are usually trying to protect civilians-and fighting back-in a place where tyrants dictate by oppressive actions. We have seen too many deaths and too many people maimed, disabled and distressed by these battles. Families around them carry too many emotional scars as a result. War is never nice, casualties are inevitable, but it still hurts. One death is one too many. But we have lost hundreds in the Afghan. Not just in the last few years, but over a long time. The country has always been the place of rebels and malcontents. My father would always say-he served in that part of the world during the 2nd World War and for some time afterwards trying to restore order-that he could never trust an Afghan. When ever there were any of them about, friend or foe, he would sleep with a dagger under his pillow. Even the friends would turn allegiance, or be forced to do so.
I am one of those that thinks Wootten Bassett should be honoured for its respect of the returning troops. Their sentiments and actions probably represent many of us, WE MUST PAY TRIBUTE to all of them. It is thus a saddening action that Wootten Bassett should lose this chance to pay that tribute, as these heroes will not be brought back to the nearby airbase RAF Lyneham in future. Perhaps the town does deserve a rest, it is just not normal to have so many hearses so often in a rural town, or anywhere. I know others think differently. But people do need to grieve. The decision is more to do with austerity measures though-and therein lies more emotions and arguments.
I am also touched by the resilience of the ones that have lost their loved ones, and the way in which they respond. There will be different emotions handled in different ways at different times; hurt, sadness, pain, anger, hopelessness, even bitterness, and that is to be expected, but there is also pride and that "stiff upper lip" of Britishness.
I tend to weep a few tears whenever I hear about yet another death on the radio or TV. The scenes of Wootten Bassett are guaranteed to get me going. But yesterday I completely lost control. The dog died of a soldier who was shot. A working dog, a dog that searches for bombs and the partner of a soldier that does such valuable work. The dog died of stress. I have to admit I am crying as I write this. The tragedy of the human life lost is a shocking loss of life, but for the dog to die too, not from the same shot or injuries sustained, but from the loyal camaraderie the dog shared with its keeper is a statement of the greatness of that soldier and the bond shared with the dog. They were a team, they were a great and honourable team, doing great and useful work, and they die virtually together. The dog must have been grieving so much and was so shocked. Its truly shattering.
My thanks go to the Daily Mail and Reuters for their pictures. Sad pictures, sad moments and I wish they did not happen.
I am one of those that thinks Wootten Bassett should be honoured for its respect of the returning troops. Their sentiments and actions probably represent many of us, WE MUST PAY TRIBUTE to all of them. It is thus a saddening action that Wootten Bassett should lose this chance to pay that tribute, as these heroes will not be brought back to the nearby airbase RAF Lyneham in future. Perhaps the town does deserve a rest, it is just not normal to have so many hearses so often in a rural town, or anywhere. I know others think differently. But people do need to grieve. The decision is more to do with austerity measures though-and therein lies more emotions and arguments.
I am also touched by the resilience of the ones that have lost their loved ones, and the way in which they respond. There will be different emotions handled in different ways at different times; hurt, sadness, pain, anger, hopelessness, even bitterness, and that is to be expected, but there is also pride and that "stiff upper lip" of Britishness.
I tend to weep a few tears whenever I hear about yet another death on the radio or TV. The scenes of Wootten Bassett are guaranteed to get me going. But yesterday I completely lost control. The dog died of a soldier who was shot. A working dog, a dog that searches for bombs and the partner of a soldier that does such valuable work. The dog died of stress. I have to admit I am crying as I write this. The tragedy of the human life lost is a shocking loss of life, but for the dog to die too, not from the same shot or injuries sustained, but from the loyal camaraderie the dog shared with its keeper is a statement of the greatness of that soldier and the bond shared with the dog. They were a team, they were a great and honourable team, doing great and useful work, and they die virtually together. The dog must have been grieving so much and was so shocked. Its truly shattering.
No comments:
Post a Comment