Yesterday, a brief stop en route in Bangkok, was a nightmare. After a sleepless night on a bus down from Chiang Mai - the guy next to me had no concept of space boundries - I spent the entire day trudging round in search of the Cambodia Embassy, which had been thoughtlessly moved from a convenient city centre position to miles out. It has been baking hot the last two days, but I now have Cambodia and Vietnam visas sorted and it is full steam ahead.
I am currently in Kanchanaburi, home to the Bridge over the River Kwai (or Kwae according to the Thais, who told them they could name their own rivers, haven't they seen the film). One of my grandfathers was a WW2 POW (not here though) and, without wishing to sound too corny, the whole thing has been very moving. After all I could not do what I am doing were it not for their unbelieveable suffering. As well as the bridge, there is a very informative museum and a very well-preserved cemetery.
In the interests of honesty two things stuck in the craw. Firstly there is a Japanese memorial next to the bridge for Allied troops and everyone else who lost their lives. It was war, but even so one group was largely responsible for the deaths of the others, and many of those deaths could have been avoided though greater humanity. The second is how few Americans died here compared to Brits, Dutch, Australians and other Asians.
Still it's a long time ago and the only time my Taid (Welsh for grandad) spoke to me about his experiences in the war, he was not bitter towards anyone, including the Germans who held him captive. He actually spoke without any pride, sentimentality or bias whatsoever, which was the mark of the man.
I am currently in Kanchanaburi, home to the Bridge over the River Kwai (or Kwae according to the Thais, who told them they could name their own rivers, haven't they seen the film). One of my grandfathers was a WW2 POW (not here though) and, without wishing to sound too corny, the whole thing has been very moving. After all I could not do what I am doing were it not for their unbelieveable suffering. As well as the bridge, there is a very informative museum and a very well-preserved cemetery.
In the interests of honesty two things stuck in the craw. Firstly there is a Japanese memorial next to the bridge for Allied troops and everyone else who lost their lives. It was war, but even so one group was largely responsible for the deaths of the others, and many of those deaths could have been avoided though greater humanity. The second is how few Americans died here compared to Brits, Dutch, Australians and other Asians.
Still it's a long time ago and the only time my Taid (Welsh for grandad) spoke to me about his experiences in the war, he was not bitter towards anyone, including the Germans who held him captive. He actually spoke without any pride, sentimentality or bias whatsoever, which was the mark of the man.
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