Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Why Americans??

So...continuing from last night... why was I brought up to hate Americans?? Well, once upon a time in England, before the second world war, there lived a handsome prince (who we'll call William). William had an older brother (who we'll call John.) William worshipped his big brother. He though that John walked on water. John was his hero. But it was 1939 and a really evil wizard had stolen the throne of a faraway country called Germany. The wizard had cast a spell on the people and made them do horrible things. Like start a war. John was in the army and had to go. Rifleman John was sent to N Africa. Where he fought for years and years. Eventually (he was now Corporal John) he went to Italy. One day while fighting in Italy he and his platoon were in place in their dugout on a small rise above a valley. They had held on to this strategically important spot against heavy odds for days but now the enemy had been driven back and they were waiting to be relieved. Two platoons of newly arrived, brand-new American soldiers were sent to relieve them. They wandered down the middle of the road towards the dugout. Before they could get there they heard some shooting. And an aeroplane flew past with it's machine guns firing. It was an American aircraft and it wasn't shooting at them but still they panicked. And they turned tail and ran away. Their sergeants tried to stop them but couldn't. (In their defence they were conscripts, it was their first sight of battle and probably not one of them was over 18).

That was bad enough. But then - in order to cover up the fact that they had run away - they lied. They said that Corporal John's position had been over-run and they were all dead. They said the Germans had fired at them and they were lucky to escape. And so their Captain ordered that the post should be shelled with mortar fire.

And the Americans blew Corporal John and his men to pieces.

One of Corporal John's men had been answering a call of nature a little way off and so he wasn't killed outright, he lived just long enough to tell the tale of how they'd watched the Americans run away. And when Corporal John's Lieutenant went to the American Captain he was told "Too bad. It's a war, buddy. Get lost." And nothing was done. And the Lieutenant wrote to Corporal John's mother and told her the tale. And she cried a lot and cursed Americans. And she gave William the letter and the medal that they'd given John and William cried. And when it came William's turn to go to war he asked to be posted to Burma to fight the Japanese because, although it was a terrible place to be, there were no Americans there.

I have that medal still. William was my father and he hated Americans because they never even said sorry for killing his hero. My father taught us to hate Americans too. Hate's like that. You have to be taught it. That Captain taught my father to hate and he taught me. Fortunately for me life taught me to stop hating. Hating is hard - it takes so much energy. It's far, far easier to love.

I am blessed that I have so many good friends who are American. And next week I'll tell you of the fantastic things they've done for me. And how grateful I am to have them in my life.

Enjoy your updates. Good Night and may your God/s go with you..

Ze

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