Which brought me in touch with Weltschmerz and child memories from WWII, in the Netherlands, occupied by the German army.
I remembered how as a little girl, I was walking down the street, my mother holding my hand. A German soldier was walking towards us. On approach, he picked me up and held me tenderly in his arms, put me down and walked on. I must have been a substitute for his little girl at home in Germany. A lesson in compassion.
Who is the enemy, who is the foe? The English bombed a vast, densely populated area of The Hague, the city I was living in. They missed their target, the site where V2 missiles were launched to England, they merely made a mistake and thousands were killed in the spring of 1945. I was told they were our friends.
The Germans did not bomb The Hague, yet I was told they were the enemy. Puzzling for a child, is it not? A lesson in relativity. Yo-Anka Light
