We were invited to join the AAC-camp at Middle Wallop during 10 and 11 june 2022.

Due to prize differences for travel two of us arrived a few days earlier in London, which was a real pleasure. Travelling by plane, however is not the best way to go camping. Only handluggage and one larger bag for us two was far from enough, but the men assisted us wherever necessary: a campingbed, warm stuff for the night and even a mug to drink.
In fact I only missed a shower, which a not a real problem as we could use the facilities of the museum. 

At sunset we had an informal ceremony at the monument near the museum.
A large circular wall with names, almost unrecognizable from the outside.

Seeing all those names on the walls was emotional.
But what caught me off guard was the empty space for those to come.

Commemorating those who died in war- and peace-actions in the past with a war going on so near makes one feel people will never learn.
Why are peaceful and almost innocent young people changed into killing machines?
None comes home unchanged.
And why do we give individuals the power to start a war? The power to send young people to war, facing things they should never see and never experience? Making them see themselves in such a different way as their peers at home?

The sadness of my gram telling me my dad came home a different man.
The boy who joined the church choir without telling anyone surprising them with a solo as boy-soprano, the boy who put the tail of a horse in a bucket of paint to see what would happen... he became a silent man, always weighing his actions. He was loved at his work for being such a good boss. He didn't say much...

After the ceremony when everybody was gone, the silence within the circle of the wall could almost be touched.
All those men... all those lives, all those families waiting, getting the news, carrying the emptiness forever with them...

I hope to be back there again....
To pay my respect.. for those who died, and those who were there...