Passchendaele

Last Night I watched Passchendaele. The strength, tenacity and nobleness of the Canadians shines throughout. The British showed as underhand, pompous and unfeeling. The death and destruction was vivid and raw.



I found the film hard to watch and was pacing in and out of the room, poking my head around the door saying "is he dead yet?" I must have driven my husband to distraction but he was ever understanding and calm.

Last Night I dreamt my husband married a Canadian. I watched it all unfurl before my eyes helpless to stop it. She was vibrant but humble, beautiful but natural. She would do everything with him that he wants to do, she would not hold him back.

Last Night I lost pride in my country and it broke my heart. The Americans shined in bravery at Omaha. The Canadians Passchendale. The Australians Gallipoli.

All day I have struggled to find that pride again but tonight I remembered the Little Ships of Dunkirk.

It also brought me to Harry Patch, if you haven't heard of him this is worth a read.

And back to the wedding? Well I have treasured my man today, so he benefited marvellously.