Comments on: Bill and his kind

By: Saurtan

Saurtan — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 08:34:47 +0000

I don’t know if you still visit old posts, but I do hope that you get this.
This was a beautiful post, reminded me of Kipling and his crippling pain when his son died..

“If any question why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.”

I’m glad I went back to the beginning. Hope that you will continue posting.

Cheers,
Sub

By: Oscarandre

Oscarandre — Fri, 06 Apr 2007 13:21:29 +0000

Thanks for your comments everyone – I get so sad when I see the smile on the face of that little boy, Bill, and then I think of all the little boys and girls who grow up to die in strange places and far from those that love them. And often for lies.

By: alma

alma — Sun, 01 Apr 2007 23:12:17 +0000

That was a touching post. A feel lucky to be in this generation having NOT to endure the hardship and suffering brought about by the war.

I grew up in the Philippines hearing stories from my grandmother about the horrors they have endured in the hands of those cruel Japanese soldiers.

But why do we have to have wars? Can’t we all just live in peace?

Here’s hoping.

PS. Thank you for visiting and commenting on my blog.

By: ladypirate

ladypirate — Fri, 30 Mar 2007 01:56:13 +0000

It is the way of the world. But why? And who decided it would be this way? There’s no easy answer, is there? Do you suppose there ever was?

By: Big John

Big John — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 14:19:45 +0000

I know how you feel mate. My Uncle Arthur was stationed in Singapore when it was captured by the Japanese. He was never seen again. His wife waited many years for his return as he was reported as ‘Missing’, which sort of gives the impression that someone is lost in the jungle rather than that they have been blown to pieces.

By: Skye

Skye — Wed, 28 Mar 2007 21:50:49 +0000

For some reason this post really touched me and I felt compelled to write something. Not that I’ve known anyone who was killed on the front line.

My grandparents were children of WWII, and often I’d listen to the war stories my grandmother had, how bad life was, and how much she hated the Japanese. These were typical coming from people of her generation, some of which rubbed off on those who didn’t know much about the war, but held the same sentiments anyway.

And how much all these would shape the world as we would see it, and how much it all doesn’t matter in the name of war and politics.

At the end of the day, it is all a game. A game of political evolution, the strongest (and fittest) would survive.

Yet, who are we? Pawns.