When I was a child, I had a fear of anything to do with dead people. Like many of us, the finality and the inevitability of death kept me up at night. Then there were ghost stories and Hollywood. I stopped being afraid of dead people after I realized that, no dead person had ever harmed anyone.
My grandfather served in the Ceylon Regiment. I remember looking at his only photo I’ve seen, with great admiration. War shaped an entire generation. Over there in Ceylon, and here in Aotearoa. Here at the War Memorial Museum, some stories from those days survive, overlooking the metropolis below, basking in the setting rays of the sun. An air of melancholy and old world charm. The sun sets on everyone, everything, even on mighty Britannia who ruled the waves.