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OT: A Miracle Between Warring Countries


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As some of you already know, I have friends in Kashmir. A family of Kashmiris, actually, who are wonderful people. I read up on various books, articles, etc. to try and understand much of what is going on there, and what might happen. I just finished "War at the Top of the World: The Struggle for Afghanistan, Kashmir, and Tibet" by journalist Eric S Margolis. I read something in this book that I thought was hopeful, perhaps inspiring. As Mr. Margolis was discussing the apparent hopelessness of the Indian-Pakistan conflict, he wrote: "I have seen two miracles in my lifetime. The first was on the nightmarish French battlefield at Verdun, where in 1916 a million men died, or were seriously wounded, in an area that could barely hold two of New York's Central Park. There, on a cold, rainswept fall day, the president of France, Francois Mitterrand, and the German chancellor, Helmut Kohl, stood before the Ossuaire, Verdun's grim bone repository, held hands, and solemnly pledged that forever hence Frenchmen and Germans were brothers and comrades-in-arms who would never fight again." His second miracle was no less inspiring: "A few years later I sat in Moscow, drinking vodka with two formers colonels of the Soviet KGB, swapping our Cold War adventures. After some hours of levity, we stopped, looked at one another, and said, at virtually the same moment, 'How could we ever have been so crazy as to think of going to war with each other.' " "A few days later, I discovered that my driver, a delightful man named Gennady, had served as a Red Army lieutenant colonel wtih the Communist forces fighting in Angola. I told him I'd been on the opposite side as an observer and a journalist, with their foe, the UNITA rebel army. I asked Gennady where he had served." "'At Cuito and Mavinga,' he replied. 'I was there, too,' I exclaimed. In a remarkable coincidence, it turned out twe had both been in the front lines during the battle of Mavinga, at precisely the same time, trading rocket fire at each other's positions. 'Gennady!' I cried. 'Eric!' he cried. We fell into each other's arms, kissing Russian-style, two old warriors and comrades-in-arms, albeit on opposite sides. Such is the madness of war, at least on the personal level."
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We are used to watching war in the movies, like some distant show. Even war, as it is shown in the TV news, is censored to hide the truth. True horror is always hidden from the public. Yesterday, my wife had lunch with a friend. He is an advisor to Spain´s Minister of Science and Technology. He told my wife that he came from a meeting with a Guardia Civil General, on snuff movies in Internet. They watched one of them, a Russian woman being killed. He said that nothing he had ever seen in the movies had prepared him for what he saw. The eyes, the face of that woman when they put the gun to her head, and she realized the truth. Truth is life, and death. Thuth is laugh, and pain, and love and care for our children. That´s what we all share. The rest is just lies. Nation. Religion. Greed. That´s what wars are made of. JoseC.
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[quote]Originally posted by Anderton: [b]I would like to think the second miracle was an accurate reflection of humanity when it's not being used for a political agenda.[/b][/quote]Yeah, I think so. Hopefully the first miracle was a genuine reflection of humanity, too...hopefully. I finished the book, which I would definitely recommend as a very good overview of the warring in the regions of Afghanistan, Tibet, and Kashmir, with all the countries that are involved. The U.S., as you may figure, plays a huge role in this, and in the Middle East, which the book also discusses concisely. This and why the U.S. controls the oil in the Middle East. But I found that amidst all the tragedy discussed in the book, the author still found hope in things such as U.S./Russia and France/Germany patching things up.
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One of my mother's tales was of being in a field hospital in France (WWII) and patching up soldiers. They took care of prisoners too. A Brit and a German had simultaneously popped up and shot each other, and ended up in the same ward. She thought that was pretty stupid, and a good lesson. I never would have met my jazz musician neighbour except when his trench was overrun and a rifle was pointed at him, he figured he'd be delivered from this terror, but it jammed. He was taken prisoner instead and ended up in Scotland for the rest of the war. The POW were set up with instruments from the guards so he got to play sax behind the wire and made lifelong friendships with the guards. After settling in Canada, any trip back to Czechoslovakia and Germany included a visit to Scotland to see his friends. OK, I made the war relevant to music. So shoot me.
It's OK to tempt fate. Just don't drop your drawers and moon her.
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One of Faulkner's earliest novels is about a scene late in WW I where the opposing armies meet and spontaneously decide not to attack each other. The idea is the war is almost over, but not 'officially' quite yet. Then there is the true story of soldiers who had a spontaneous one -day armistance long enough for Christmas Day.

A WOP BOP A LU BOP, A LOP BAM BOOM!

 

"There is nothing I regret so much as my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well?" -Henry David Thoreau

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