LEST WE FORGET

The Holocaust Kingdom. life in the Warsaw Ghetto, I come to the last page and I close the  book. I had shed many tears throughout the reading of this true story of a family of 3 who survived for 6 years in World War II, who were separated  yet miraculously found one another at the end of the war.

Parents, knowing that the old, young and sick were to be exterminated, made alternative arrangements for their children outside the Ghetto Walls, in the free sector.

Those who survived Ghetto life with its food shortages and lack of medical supplies were then faced with the first resettlement program. People were chosen randomly and sent to different POW camps in cattle trucks. Some never made it.

The walls were re-designed to make it smaller. Life continued for a while until the second resettlement program got under way. Young, sick and old were shot, and the walls were once again changed to make the ghetto smaller still, less than half the original number were living there at this point.

During this time, the Jews knew that life for them was only going to get worse and the realisation that total extermination  of the Jews had been the plan all along and  they had been living in false hope of ever escaping. The youth formed an underground movement and planned an uprising.  So the remaining residents made tunnels interleading from one apartment to another, until they could move from block to block without being seen or going outside.

It took l week for the Jews to be flushed out of their "warren" and this was done by setting the Ghetto on fire. 

The last of them were sent to POW camps and the Warsaw Ghetto lay deserted.

Their war was an unbearable war of survival, they lived in fear, many feared death and many  prayed for it.

The above photos are taken of the Warsaw Ghetto at the time of the uprising. See the little girl above with her arms up and the soldier in the background. I wonder what life she had, if any.

                              

The man in the picture above is my father. He fought in the Korean War in 1951/52.  I do not know this young man, but he was a young man on an adventure, for I truly feel he did not believe he knew the full horror of what could have been his fate. and I quote:

"Although it happened 56 years ago, it seems like yesterday that we all set off with such boyish zest." Taken from the book FLYING CHEETAHS IN KOREA.

He married my mother and they moved to Rhodesia where he joined the Rhodesian Air Force, and was just in time  to face the war there

It had now become my mother's war.

I still see the worry on her face while he was out clocking up flying hours, night flying, circuits and bumps, and as we lived near the Air Force base, they were flying right above us.  I close my eyes, I see my mom curled up in her chair wearing her red gown, she looks pale and she says "I worry every time he is up there." I was 10 years old and I had been introduced to fear and the knowledge that my parents could  be taken from me. I just never imagined that parents could do that. Loss had not touched me yet. He always came home, but the seed had  been planted in my mind.

I grew up and yes, would you believe it, I married a policeman in the British South Africa Police,

It had now become my war. 

For seven years we lived with call ups of 6 weeks home, six weeks border duty. Worry dogged my every step, life for me trying to raise small children was not as it should be. In fact, it would be correct to say that my mom and I raised them a lot of the time. 

Will my children know their father? Will he walk the girls down the isle? or will we be among the many broken lives left in the wake of wars gone before us, and will the politicians even know we existed?

                                  Pictures of the Rhodesian Bush War               

 Bonds for survival are forged in times of war. Soldier to soldier as they watch one another's backs, wives to wives as they draw towards one another for strength, support and comfort, they become mom and dad to their children, become independent as learn to change plugs, change car tyres and make important decisions on their own.

Whether you have entered into combat. survived years in a POW camp, been a housewife keeping the home fires burning, or a child with no father, you are still a soldier in your own right.

So, take a bow soldiers worldwide, who fought your own wars, winning some, losing some, they  will be with you forever.

They have left their mark on all the little people, the ones who had no voice at all.                                                     

                                                                                    

DISABLED - BUT NOT STUPID

Know someone who is deaf? Blind? or otherwise disabled?

They may be all of these things, and you may try to avoid being in their company, but don't, the next time you find yourself in the company of a disabled person, go to them, turn a blind eye to their disability and see a whole person, a normal, functioning person, treat them with respect, as an equal, for they may be disabled, but they are not stupid, and their feelings can be deeply hurt by insensitive treatment.

In the picture above are deaf children of 5 years old.  They were the pre-school class I taught at a school  which was in Bophuthaswana (now renamed) just outside Rustenburg on the way to Sun City.

As a teacher of children WITHOUT encumberances of any sort, this little group gave me tremendous insight as to the ability these children have, and how they learn.

I taught them spacial development, eye-hand, eye-foot co-ordination, colours and sizes, shapes and all the same perceptive development skills that hearing children learn, but through a different medium.

They had "face names", for example, the little boy holding my son (the white child), his name was "Doctor" called by others by placing 2 fingers across their foreheads. When he was a baby he had a drip in his head and it left a scar. I would catch the eye of someone, put 2 fingers on my forehead, and the message was well understood, about 3 or 4 children would run to him and turn him to face me! So it was with them all.

One day I noticed one little girl with a toy tambourine held to her ear. She was beating a 3/4 (waltz time) beat, her feet kept in time with the tapping on the tambourine and I remember thinking " how does she even KNOW what a beat is and how to dance keeping the correct rhythm. 

Below is a picture of all the children, I had 8, one was absent on this day, and there sits my son amongst them all!

Meal times. Each in his world of silence. They were easy to control and quiet most of the time.

We took them to Pick 'n Pay one day on an outing.  I did not know what to expect - bedlam I think, but was very pleasantly surprised. We all climbed into the back of what looked like a cattle truck, it had a green tarpaulin over it, and the children all ducked their heads underneath to see what the world looked like outside of the school grounds!

Once we arrived in Rustenburg, we all disembarked, arranged everyone in rows and set of on our big adventure. How amazing it was to discover that it was not unlike a trip with any other children, through the medium of signing we discussed the goods on the shelves, the colours, sizes of the containers, what everything was for etc. They were keen to learn rather than run up and down the isles, which is what I had been afraid of.

Most of the children at the school matriculated eventually, learning as much as hearing children, learning braille as they grew older, which of course enabled them to read, opening up a whole new world for them. They could lip read and speak out loud by the age of 10 - 18 years, and eventually many of them become contributing members of society.  Unfortunately, not all of them have the opportunity.

I often used to think "there but for the grace of God go I"