Photo Blog: Day 2921

#2921 – Crested

Chatham, January 2020.

The memorial was silent. Silent, ironically, as the grave. He thought there would be more people here, more people to witness the moment, but instead it was him, on his own.

The sacrifices where all around him to view, to read. People he never knew – never would know – who had sacrificed their lives decades before he was born, under the direct instructions of men who did their bidding from an office desk, miles from where the real fighting was.

That was what galled him the most. These were people – decision makers – who knew nothing of what real fighting was, who knew nothing about real sacrifice, whose biggest sacrifice was having to use blue ink when writing because the stock of black was low. First World Problems.

The sun etched out the crest in stunning detail. Even from down here, the sky a clear blue on this cold, crisp January morning, the intricacy of the carving was clear. This had meant something to the craftsmen, whose friend or relative’s name may be – probably be – engraved in the bronze tablets around him. Visible only to him. Seen only by him. Understood only by him.

2 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.