The Begining of WWII
by Emile M Tubiana
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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I was ten years old when this war started
The Begining of WWII
At the thought of war,
a feeling of mistrust came over us.
We were unclear about the future.
Germans and Allies were disturbing
our childhood and our peaceful life.
A few days later, early in the morning,
little men holding on to colorful balloons
came down from the sky.
The sky had become clouded with them.
They were British parachutists.
"Brand new men from God sent by our prophet" said Ali.
"No", answered Nicholas, "they are angels." Both were wrong.
They were neither angels nor messengers of God.
"They are the vanguard of the Allies;
better to see the British than the Germans," said our elders.
We, the little ones, did not have any opinion.
All of this was disturbing to us.
We did not have the least desire
to welcome anyone,
and even less soldiers.
The sky was downcast and menacing,
the air was losing its purity.
As if out of our books, a warlike spirit
deriving from the earlier times
of the Carthaginians, the Numidians
and the Romans pervaded the atmosphere
with a repulsive smell which stifled the velvety
perfume of lilacs and jasmine.
This feeling was suddenly interrupted
by the news so feared by our grown ups:
the Germans had just reached our shore,
they were already holding all the cities along the coast.
The grown ups were sad and so was I.
I was musing, remembering the beautiful summer days,
the games on the warm sand, the waves stroking
the young Arab, Italian, Jewish, Maltese and French girls
lying covered up by the sea, the evenings
on the beaches washed by the cool breezes
of the Mediterranean, soothing our sun burnt bodies.
I was recalling the merchants of "bonbolonis" *
coming out of nowhere at the time of day
when the sun sinks below the horizon.
The ruins of Carthage would appear in the background
and that was the sign for the ending of the day.
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|Reviewed by Michelle Mead
|This is excellent writing, my friend. I could listen to you forever.|
|Reviewed by Joyce Bell
|THE MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD FROM THE RECALL OF WHAT ONE FELT AS A CHILD...TOUCHING AND CERTAINLY VIVID ...BITTERSWEET...PAINTING THE BEAUTY OF WHAT WAS AND THE FEAR OF WHAT WAS TO COME. DONE SO WELL EMILE...AN EXCELLENT WORK. THANKS FOR SHARING AND GOD BLESS YOU. JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS|
|Reviewed by Georg Mateos
|Wars...if not for them, we would have the pleasure to visit the hanging gardens of Babylon, or Alexandria's library, or Karthago, or Chichen Itza, or the Colossus of Rhodes, or...
Wars, couldn't man occupy himself with something else?
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by Paul Berube
|Great way to describe it, Emile. Well written my friend. God bless.|
|Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
|Oh Emile, what an amazing memory, so detailed and vivid and very intertwined with the history of all that came before...
Be always safe,
|Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
|Fascinating. I could listen to you go on and on and on. To stand in the geography where Scipio and Hannibal squared off only to watch modern titans of iron clash on the sands and over the skies....Rommel, Afrika Korps, Montgomery, Joachim Marseilles, ME 109s, Spitfires, Hurricanes, Focke Wulf 190s, German 88s, Tunisia, Libya, el Agheila, Tobruk, el Alamein, querbeet durch die Wueste, in allerlei wahnsinnigen Hitze, Sand und durch Fliegen scharrenweise geplagt und gejagt, und und und. Einfach Fantastisch!!!|