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Have you ever experienced a dark place that seized a slice of your soul? Unsettling, a meager dozen miles distant, my modern, peaceful home. Refused to return that piece to me, unrecovered to this day. In my head six hundred and forty two enfants de la république, Screaming through the eerie quiet of their Glane valley sanctuary. Tormented by the woe of capitulation's aftermath. Numbed, muted, I fall contemplative. My silent witness of global shock. Horror des rues of shell pocked ruins. My condemnation progress spied by innocent, pathetic ghosts. Suppressed villagers; D-Day news, rumours and ceded hope, Angels of Limousin; sleep unforgotten. Massacred! Senseless, demoniac Schutstaffel. Furnace church, smelted bell, Dante’s foreseen Nazi hell. Abandoned, untouched since that abhorrent summer’s day. The sands of time pass slow. Struggle through my lens to capture this wretched atmosphere. How would Pran or Conroy relate their story had they shot it then? Such absolute evil now outlawed to prevent phoenix rise again. But we, mere humans, never learn from history’s text, Doomed to repeat. It has and will….. |