Meet the atlantean's wrath

Well, today is May 8th, the official celebration of the end of WWII...and it makes me think of my Grampa.

Thanks to people like you Papy, to people who fought to the very end and never lost hope, even when all seemed lost, I am now able to live in a free world. You were only 20, but when war was declared you became a pilot, not because of the thrill, but because you knew you were fighting for freedom. And when you were defeated and your country occupied you didn’t let go, you didn’t flee or hide under common excuses, but you chose the hard path. You were a clandestined radio operator but also participated in several actions, you destroyed things, arsoned, probably killed (I never dared ask you), and were captured. I know you went to a concentration camp, a low security one, and that you were crazy enough to try to escape. Lucky and gifted enough to succeed. But even there, even after having seen and endured the worst horrors you didn’t stop, you knew it was more important than ever to hope and act upon your beliefs. You continued to fight until all seemed to go better, until the end of the war seemed to grow near, and I supposed that you became careless, or that they were better than previous times since they caught you again, recognized you and sent you to Birkenau. I’ve seen many photographs of the place in history books and thinking that you nearly lost your life here made me (and still makes me) quiver, not so much because I would never have existed, but because I can’t even picture what you must have endured. I saw the mark they left on you and I know you suffered like I will probably never experience, but life was decidingly loving you since the Russians soldiers freed you on their march to Germany. Weak, sick and dying you still chose to take arms and joined their ranks. It was now or never, and France would not see you again until everybody could be free.
Always reserved about what you went through, you taught us the ravages of hate and the virtues of bravery and tolerance. For all that and for having been my deeply loved grand-père, I thank you.

I miss you Papy.

"Celui qui croyait au ciel
Celui qui n'y croyait pas."