Fasting 5/2

I have been on the 2/5 fasting diet for around 3 months now and I have come down from 90kg to around 83.5kg.  Perhaps I should expand on what the diet means in simple terms, I say that as I forget the benefits that I have read about. It is well worth getting the book and giving it a go and I will try and elaborate as to why I recommend it.

To begin with the diet involves restricting the calorie intake to 600 and 500 for men and women respectively, this equates to about a quarter of the intake you require.  The 2 refers to your choice of 2 non-consecutive days when you restrict your diet and the 5 is the rest when you can eat what you wish.  The most useful thing about this diet is that you can fit it around your social life it is not so restrictive and critical that you keep to a regime day after day for months on end.  More importantly it works, it is amazing given the lack of self control that I have exercised on my off days but the weight comes off and it stays off.

The book I read here is very interesting, in essence it is co-written by the TV presenter/doctor Michael Mosley and food journalist Mimi Spencer.  My personal opinion is that the Doc is good and the Journalist is spouting drivel, that is unkind I know but that is how I felt when I read it.  I don't want the information dressed up I just want clear and balanced information.  Don't let the suggested menus put you off, I would very much stick with practical convenient food that has a recognised calorie count.  This desire to have variety for what are two separate days in your week is fair enough but I generally stick to the same format for those days which is yogurt, black tea and 4 egg omelette.  Occasionally when I have been travelling I have popped into an M&S to get a pasta meal that falls under 400 calories, but beware this is difficult to find due to the misleading labeling that does not tell you the true calorie count for the meal.  You generally need to do some arithmetic to work out the content from the portion described on the label.  There is lots of great medical/science benefits, most of which I have forgotten so I will need to re-read the book. In essence time spent fasting allows the body to devote its resources elsewhere.

Despite the enthusiasm of the book about the effects of the diet I have not felt more alive, energetic or somehow sharper that before.  I think psychologically I have felt better because I can see the results and it works and I am much happier that this is the case.  I did think I would be less energetic or that there might be other side effects but in essence no.  If you are a healthy adult with no underlying conditions then you are fine, you can exercise and feel fine.  The most noticeable effect is that I pass water a lot more frequently when I am on the diet.  More to the point I absorb the water when I go out for a subsequent drink and do not pass water as readily as before.  Nice to talk about that eh?  Anyway, the point is that water retention can account for around 2kgs of movement in my case.  It is well not to be disheartened when the weight bounces back up as this is temporary.

The biggest challenge for me is the bit where I have to get through lunchtime without eating, by that stage my stomach is usually empty and mentally I am programmed to expect food.  It is a battle and often it is a case of, well what else do I do at lunchtime if not eat?  You can split the 600 calories into smaller portions to have a regular bite throughout the day but I think the fast is more effective the longer you leave it between meals.  Other side effects I have noticed is that I am feeling full a lot quicker on the off days, in fact if I overdo it then I feel nauseous,  I am now consciously taking smaller portions and regularly having my tea black, you get used to it.

I have to add that I still misbehave and have plenty of 'bad' things but it is open season on the off days and the weight is still coming off,  If I were better disciplined then perhaps it would go quicker!

A tip, and perhaps it is obvious really, don't have a drinking session before a planned fast day, that is too hardcore and a mistake I have made today in fact.  It is better to get the fast day out of the way first or leave it until at least a clear day after the drinking to allow a recovery.  I broke my fast today but plan to do either Friday or Saturday instead.  I have more often brought my day forward to Wednesday instead of Thursday (Monday is my other day)  I think it is more effective again when you have just one day between fasts but then that requires a little more willpower too,

One last point for now, beware the office cakes and biscuits.  It is a little anti social at times but then it is usually only a matter of holding out for a few hours extra and then you can have that cake.  I have found it easier to hold on in the evening despite the challenge of lunchtime.

I would recommend it to anyone, it is easier than you might think to stick too.

Etiquette On the Tube

During my commute I have come to observe the habits and etiquette that should be in place for commuters who are crammed like sardines into the fast moving, if jerky, epitome of modern rail transport that is the Tube.

First of all you should give up your seat for those less able to stand than yourself, this is usually the case, however, often it gets so crowded that the elderly, pregnant and disabled often can't even reach the seats, we do try to accommodate them.  You should also move into the carriage and not linger about the door, this is something that most people fail to do and on my first trip in I came to grief with someone as I brushed past them.  I made the error of not saying 'excuse me', which is of course the correct way to request that someone should let you past.  I had already descended into the frame of mind where no one will move regardless of how you plead, and this is borne out of experience.  There is an unfounded fear of not being able to get off the train unless you block the doors by crowding in front of them.  Everyone secretly dreads the pushchair or large suitcases.  It is most inconsiderate to travel on the tube with such large impediments to mobility.  Most smile, but do not make any noticeable attempt to move or help.

I recently made note of the dreaded wet umbrella phenomenon, this is where you have to fold away your damp umbrella and be very careful to avoid it leaching onto some poor commuter as you are pressed up against them.  It is important to stress that there is no such thing as personal space on a tube, although not desirable, physical contact is sometimes maintained due to the crush.  Even in these circumstances, the kindles and, yes I mean this, the newspapers come out in force.  There is always enough room to annoy a fellow commuter by flicking a newspaper in their face.  What is also taboo but all too common is that the free newspapers are brought onboard and then dumped by their 'owners'.  Sometimes this is convenient if you need something to read but otherwise it is simply rubbish that someone else will need to clear up.

As well as the books, kindles and newspapers there are a healthy number of people who are busy playing games on their phones, listening to music or composing texts and emails.  All of this is really just a bid to avoid eye contact, which is the thing most are desperate to do.  There is no desire to form a bond with the fellow commuter.  If you do happen to exchange words then the ice is truly broken and it can be a happy distraction.  More often though, nothing is said and sometimes there are angry exchanges between frustrated people who do not relish their trip.

Unlike a lift, where breaking wind is the most embarrassing possible thing, ok almost then, you can do.  In the Tube at rush hour there is safety in numbers and I have, on more than one occasion, been the subject of someone's noxious emissions.  I have not perpetrated such a deed myself, which is commendable given my record at home.  A slightly lesser annoyance is the smelly armpit by the giant that I am normally stood next to on the train, sometimes I have nowhere to run to avoid this.  I am, naturally, very aware of my own delightful aroma and considering I usually overheat when walking from house to station, I try to make a special effort to keep cool and fresh.

One of the other things I have noticed is that some passengers with back packs on seem to forget or don't care that they are now almost twice as thick (maybe in intelligence terms as well) as they usually are when not carrying them.  They may as well be carrying a long plank of wood for all the consideration they have as they turn thoughtlessly in the confined spaces of the carriage.  It is very tempting to push their pack the other way and watch as they do an impression of an upturned  tortoise.

Another habit I have noticed is passengers who evacuate the train to cross the platform opposite in a bid to get the other train, which the announcer has said will depart first.  I mean, really, does it make so much of a difference the minute or so longer that their current train will take?  It is strangely satisfying when the original train departs ahead of the other one, although this does not happen that often.

When boarding the train the passengers are asked to let other passengers off the train first before attempting to board.  This turns to something like the scramble for lifeboats on a sinking ship as the beeping of the 'closing door' signal sounds.  Using your head or other handy objects to test the door safety mechanism is not helpful or recommended.

For all that I have said there are many helpful and friendly people who make the journey more pleasant.  In fact just observing the characters is enough to bring an occasional smile to my face. Delays never dull my experience of the trip.

Passing Time

As I waited for the tube to arrive I started to look about and make a concerted effort to appreciate my surroundings a bit more.  Commuting is not the most productive of time but usually I have been behind the wheel of a car and am concentrating on assessing the ever changing threats of the traffic whilst balancing the latest grumbles about work or home.  You don't get to see much beyond about 120 degrees to you front and some rather narrow cones of vision to the rear, of course not at the same time.  I read an article recently that said you only generally see things where you are looking and that peripheral vision is only good for seeing movement.  Bearing in mind that I am travelling at times up to 128kmph.  Anyway, I digress.

Back on the Tube platform I looked around and observed parallel lines, I don't know where it started but I noticed that everywhere I looked there were objects that had parallel lines.  I then thought on and noticed, to a lesser extent that circles are also another feature that is readily observed.  Of course these things to not occur in nature, or at least not commonly.  I switched from this to noting the curves of nature all around me, the trees, people's hands, arms, legs and heads  as they read their kindles, iPads and fired their text messages off to loved and not so loved ones.

On the Tube it was as busy as usual and as I stood there, this time not reading my own kindle, I watched over the shoulder of this girl who was writing a personal email to her partner about how they had argued and that maybe it was not good if they were together.  You could tell she was thinking through what she was writing but she was not angry or upset, she seemed to be quite at ease with what she was writing.  I wondered if she was the one in control and making the break or whether it was an olive branch that she was offering.  I never did find out and I thought it was not wise to inquire.

As I was making the trip I managed to get a seat, as I did so someone to my left gave up their seat for an elderly gentleman.  Unusually, we struck up a conversation, it is not common to talk to others on the Tube.  In fact most do their best to avoid eye contact, only the innocent and very friendly people tend to form momentary bonds of recognition at any given moment.  And so the bond was formed, this particular gentleman was a veteran from the Second World War, he was attached to the 6th Airborne Division, which dropped into Normandy on the 6th June 1944.  I asked him about this and he said that he had not joined at that point but that he did take part in Operation Market Garden in September 1944. I did make a mental note that the 1st Airborne Division was the one that jumped into Arnhem but I was not one to challenge the recollection of this man.  Instead we discussed his service.  He told me of his father who had survived combat in World War One with two near death experiences.  He survived a third when his home was hit by a doodlebug in the Second World War, his wife was buried in the house,but managed to survive.  I said how lucky he was to have gotten through the period with such things happening.  I told him of my recent visit to Kasterlee Commonwealth War Cemetery, where mainly Scottish troops were buried having been part of Operation Market Garden.  I pointed out that most had died on the 16th September 1944 and that it was the same day of the month as my birthday.  I then told him that I was still serving.

He was on his way to see the poppies at the Tower of London, he was making a brave pilgrimage to see this special tribute to the fallen.  I say brave, because he was quite frail at 88 and he also had difficulty seeing.  He kept asking if it was time to get off the train and he thought that I was due to get off after him.  His stop was four on from my own and I reassured him that there would be plenty of people who would assist him if he were to ask.  I was sorely tempted to go the extra distance and escort him, I do regret not doing so.  We parted, richer for having spent the time chatting and wishing each other a pleasant day.  Humanity does exist on the Tube, people do help when pushchairs need lifting and will help a stranger in need.  The brightness you bring by taking the time to assist or expressing a friendly salutation goes some way to restoring faith in human nature and always raises a smile and a thank you.

All Change

I have almost been in my work placement for two weeks.  On Friday the 24th October I was in Belgium handing over to my relief, right up to the wire and on Monday the 27th I was in London beginning an induction into a new and exciting world of banking.  New and exciting for me and, for some people, possibly a somewhat unattractive profession given the events of recent years.

I am working in the area of Finance and in particular in connection with compliance and controls, for good reasons I cannot go into any details but I have found it an eye opening experience and it is offering me the opportunity to learn new things and meet new people.

Due to the infinite kindness of my best mate, his wife and his young son, they have allowed me to lodge for the six weeks of the placement.  I am occupying the spare room and trying to do my best to fit into the routines and cause as little disruption as possible.  I traveled over from Belgium on the Sunday evening, in a bid to spend the last few hours with An.  By the time I got round to my mates house it was after 19.00 and I had yet to get myself settled in.

In terms of kit I brought 5 shirts, 3 suits, two pairs of shoes, four ties, sports kit, badminton racquets, wash kit, a towel (just in case), my laptop, iPad, Kindle, 3 books and some ancillary stuff.  My preps for the following day was to iron the shirts, a change from the white ones to a variety of colours, now I have to co-ordinate my wardrobe!

Bathroom time was my first challenge and also assessing how long it would take to do the commute.  The other challenge was to determine the best type of ticket to buy for the travel.  In the first case it was not so difficult as both my mate and his wife did not need to use the bathroom first thing in the morning, now however, I am settled into a routine of getting up at 6am and then being clear of the bathroom by about 6.25.  This gives me time to get my breakfast and then read my Kindle newspaper.  I now set out at around 7.30 and this gets me to work before 8,30 which is half an hour to spare if needed.  My mate gave me a top tip, which was to buy a monthly season ticket, this is a considerable saving and cost me £142 (I have been allowed £228) for the days that I travel but this ticket allows me to travel at the weekends too.  I would recommend this as an option (it is based on zones 1-3 in my case but it is a clear winner.

The actual commute is not too bad, very crowded and a bit warm, with all of those bodies generating heat.  I also walk fairly briskly and so I heat up quite quickly.  I need to strike a balance especially now the weather is turning a bit colder.  I have to change once, which is a matter of crossing a platform most of the times.  I find the commute an opportunity to read although initially I did not find it easy to do.  What I am not looking forward to is the round of coughs and colds that must be inevitable from travelling with so many commuters in close confinement.  I do occasionally look around and try and work out what people are like.  I note the details of their books, shoes, expressions and reactions, it passes the time.

So far I have been to badminton twice and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I have not really begun to get into a proper fitness programme but there is time.  I have also bought more shirts, in fact my first pink one, which I quite like.  So far I am due to come home to Belgium twice and once to my native North East, so almost every weekend is planned, not much time to rest and it comes at a cost too!

Hopefully I will have a job to show for it at the end but if nothing else it is a nice decent time to spend with my mate!

Scotland – The Independence Referendum

I have done my very best to keep out of the “debate” on whether Scotland should be an independent country or not.  However, I did watch the televised sessions between Salmond and Darling, which then got my interest if only in despair at the lack of properly presented and reasoned discussion.  I am not naïve, if I want an answer the last people I would speak to would be the politicians or indeed the baying hounds that represent the scandal seeking media.  So on the eve of the vote and, as you may surmise, without any intention to influence or inform anyone, this is my 10 pennies worth of what I would regard as quite reasonable and thought out concerns.

First of all I am English and I do not care whether or not the people (I say people because not all of the eligible voters are Scots) currently living in Scotland choose to become independent of the rest of the UK or not.  It is their right to choose and I have no truck with that.  My family and many friends are Scottish and I believe that most of those do not have a vote in this case, I have not discussed my views with them or sought to get theirs.  It is not that I am concerned about causing divisions in relationships, I think we are far too mature and sensible to allow that to happen, no.  In fact I have probably, like most of those in the rest of the UK, been rather complacent and arguably arrogant about the whole thing.  I have thought, Scotland would never vote for independence, surely?  They get such a good deal from the partnership, what possible benefit could there be to breaking away?  The realisation has occurred, far too late and I would still not do a great deal to attempt to influence things even if I could.

I have lived and worked in Scotland and, for an Englishman, there is something that borders on harassment and intimidation when engaged in so called ‘banter’, unfortunately this has rather tainted my view and driven me to the point of exasperation at the continued grudge that seems to be held over events from hundreds of years ago.  I have got to the point where I just want the griping and abuse to stop and shout ‘get on with it, one way or another, just stay and shut up or go and play on your own’.  If I hear cries of ‘you don’t understand, you have never been oppressed!’ or whatever, then yes, you are right I don’t understand because I am living in the 21^st century and I would prefer to focus my energy on solving the problems we have and not reflecting on the bad things of the past. 

This might be a good point to interject that on a family holiday to Scotland when I was very young, maybe 9 or 10 years’ old, we visited some of my Step-father’s relatives in Kirkcaldy, in the Kingdom of Fife.  There were two girls about the same age as my brother and I and they were most ardently anti-English and made no bones about telling us (that said they still played games with us too).  We went to pains to explain that as soon as you cross the border you don’t get given 100 acres of land, a pack of hunting hounds, horses and then go and chase foxes, with your attendant surfs and slaves (foreigners of course).  They did not seem to appreciate, albeit at such a young age that there were normal people across the border, living below the poverty line and with the same sort of trials and grumbles as they had.  In fact you would think by the way they described things that England was some kind of utopia (the kind it would appear an independent Scotland thinks it will become) and that we did not in fact live under the same unpleasant and anti-social government run by that dream lady Mrs Thatcher.  I have to add at this point that none of the political parties thrill me but I would never describe myself as a Tory, a kind of swear word if uttered by the Nationalist campaigners.  My views have moderated over time from being socially supportive ie we should subsidise and support UK industries to one of compete and survive but look after those who genuinely cannot look after themselves.  Anyway I digress.  The point is that in England and in fact the rest of the UK it is not some kind of oppressive wealthy regime that kicks the poor in the nuts and denies the rights (as ludicrously compared to apartheid) of different sections of society.  No we have problems and these will remain challenging whatever the state of the nation is post the vote.

Moving on to what it means to be a Scot, I make these comments of course as an observer, it has been said that you are not a Scot if you vote no to independence.  Really?  I will put it to you that wherever you go in the globe it will not be long before you come across a Scot and should you have the stupidity to question their sense of identity then you will be quite rightly put back in your place.  I have never met a Scot who has denied their belonging to Scotland.  On the contrary I have met many other nationalities who go out of their way to exaggerate their affiliation, association or direct lineage to the wonderful land that is Scotland.  You just have to see how often bagpipes make an appearance at a wide and varied range of events to see this overt display of brotherhood with Scotland, you cannot escape sometimes it really can be a pain…  There are nations that are united by these distant hereditary connections as well as other associations or forged friendships either in battle or shared history.  Whatever happens you cannot deny these and although you may try to re-write history, it does have a habit of getting out in the end.  What I am saying is that once a Scot always a Scot, and even if you were never a Scot I have never known anyone to be rejected from this very friendly (usually) group of people.  Of course that has been slightly called into question by the divisive Yes campaigners but I feel it will survive this ‘blip’.  As an afterthought but in no way reflecting the importance and value of these people, the Welsh, Irish and English are equally as welcoming in my experience (although the English tend to be a tad more reserved about it).

Back to the debate I suppose.  I would like the United Kingdom to stay together, even if it does mean more unrelenting moaning from those who seem unable to move on.  That said the whole situation is a no win situation either way it is bad.  Whether we like it or not the world is watching and wondering why the hell this small island group would want to break up what is otherwise an extremely successful and productive relationship.  We have and will continue to lose credibility as a nation whether we are together or apart, the reputation has been damaged and continues to suffer damage.  If we ‘divorce’ it will be expensive, distracting, painful and arguably will knock the UK further down the world order in terms of influence and respect.  It is going to be an absolutely mammoth task to split institutions, invest in new facilities and quite frankly duplicate unnecessarily a huge range of structures.  No disrespect, but just look at the state of governance in Belgium and you might get an idea of the kind of duplication and waste that could occur.  I have probably offended and alienated my Belgian family and friends with that statement but I am sure they will forgive me…hopefully.

If on the other hand the vote is a no, then it merely deters the debate for a period of time but then presents the politicians with the issue of implementing Devo Max, whatever that turns out to be.  It has been a bit of a mistake not to have defined this, but then no more than the lack of detail that the Yes campaign has thus far provided.  My concern is what about England and the considerable number of Scottish MPs that vote on purely English (and occasionally Welsh) matters. My view is that Scotland has been chomping on the cake and are about to get more cake at the expense of the rest of the country, I feel slightly aggrieved at this.  Of course we will lose because in all likelihood we will set up another bureaucratic sponging government to look after English affairs, this is why we all lose whatever the outcome.

Now, I thought I might end with some ‘observations’ in the event of a Yes victory announced on Friday morning.  I have thought about this and I was wondering, will all non-Scottish people in Scotland get dual nationality?  By that I mean if I was living in Scotland as an Englishman would I have both Scottish and British nationality and what would that mean vis a vis employment, EU etc?  If you are a Scot (anywhere in the world) would you again be granted/confirmed British nationality or have the option to obtain Scottish nationality (which if I were a Scot then I am damn sure I would want)?  Moving on from those inconvenient aspects, what about the status of EU nationals, for example students, they would no longer be studying in an EU country.  What would their status be?  What would the status of a British student be?  Surely they would be EU as far as fees are concerned?  Either the EU students would lose their funding and status or the British will be allowed to claim free education?  I am not holding my breath on that one… 

We know that the EU has ruled out membership without having established a banking system and currency and the UK has ruled out a currency union (in so far as such commitments can be made).  An independent Scotland will find itself outside the EU and NATO, are they going to welcome in the Russians like the Ukraine?  Okay that is a step too far but quite frankly I would not be surprised if some novel relationships were established with other nations in a bid to move forwards.

It is maybe important, no crucial, to mention that Scotland and indeed any group seeking autonomy can and will set themselves up.  I have no doubt that an independent Scotland will be able to successfully survive and progress as would any new or reborn nation.  The main issue here is that some believe it is a giant leap backwards in order to obtain power and others seem to think that once the leash is off then utopia is just round the corner.  The reality will be a mix but harsh decisions will have to be made and reality faced up to make no mistake.  It is not a threat, it is what is inevitable and there may be blame games afterwards but that is the pain of divorce.

The last thing before I wrap up.  What happens to all of the Scots in key positions across the rest of the UK?  To put this into perspective and regardless of trust and loyalty, quite frankly we will have ‘foreigners’ operating at high level in key areas of our organisations.  In some cases this is simply unacceptable.  For example, access to intelligence and nuclear assets is, surprisingly, restricted.  Overnight there would be foreign nationals (not in NATO or the EU) that have access and control over quite a bit of our infrastructure and sensitive information.  I hasten to add that I am sure it will not be an issue in terms of sorting it out but it is a novel and unusual situation to resolve especially given that most of them have not had a vote and would feel aggrieved that they have been stuffed by the Yes campaign.  Talk about rubbing your face in it!

I want to finish simply by saying that I think we are better off together but, if we split then we will just have to get on with things and make the best of it.  Maybe there will be a ‘special relationship’ or maybe Scotland will be the despised ex who we visit every now and again to ‘see the kids’.  I feel sad and disappointed that it has come to this and that the divisions created may have a lasting and destructive effect on those that have to put up with them.

Breakfast Annoyance

Stille Tocht

Slowly they began to gather, coming together from the side streets, old, young, men, women, children.  There was no rifle or bayonet prodding the unwilling residents of Aarschot on this the 100th anniversary of the atrocity that saw 173 inhabitants killed at the hands of the German army as they swept through Belgium at the beginning of World War 1.  I cannot say whether the townsfolk on that evening of 19th August 1914 knew what was going to happen or not, I don't know if they struggled or just simply cooperated with the orders of the soldiers.  This time, there were no orders, we were shepherded into the main square by our memories of the relatives that were lost.

We waited, probably much the same as they did 100 years ago, not quite sure of who was in charge or when things were going to start.  We milled around, some of the people recognising each other.  Edie, my mother-in-law whose grandfather was killed, is my particular connection to this act of remembrance.  Her sister and brother were also present along with her sister's husband and my wife.

There was a big difference with our gathering, apart from the time and the circumstances of course, we knew where we were going and how things would end.  We also knew for certain that we would be in the protection of our homes in the warmth and shelter at the end of the evening.  Did the victims know that this would be their last evening?

Someone took charge of us, instructing us with gentle encouragement to file in rows of three abreast, we were getting ready to set our along the same route.  There was no wind or rain, it was a pleasant summer evening, quiet too.  For us there was no emotional goodbyes, no clinging onto loved ones, no tears, yet.  I don't know if the victims a hundered years before had any idea that they would not be returning and if there were scenes or struggles.  I do know that Edie's grandfather gave a purse to his son to keep hold of it, perhaps he knew or perhaps he was afraid of the Germans robbing him.  It was a significant and powerful act that had an enduring impact on the young boy who took it.

We started off, ironically, escorted by the police.  It was a somewhat solemn affair as we filed quietly on our way.  This time the women and children came with us, I say children, there were children as young as 14 who were victims of this atrocity.  Our column was maybe 100 metres long, as it wound it's way down the streets on out to towards the site of the first memorial.  I cannot speak for the others but I felt very much like it was a final walk, gazing up at the windows and taking in the route in the most minute detail, more so than at any other time when I have passed, busily and thoughtlessly through the same streets.

I noted the occasional shifting curtain and slightly open door as the curiosity of the residents got the better of them, they tried to discretely catch a glance at us as we made our way past.  I wondered whether the same had happened to the victims, indeed, did the women and children follow or were they kept away?  I doubted whether many people outside our group even knew of the event or were aware of the lasting impact.  The most powerful onlooker was a child looking through an upstairs window, no emotion in his face, just looking.  I thought of the last time I had hugged anyone and I was grateful that I would get the opportunity to do so again, it would mean a little more than it had before.

As we made our way, the limited traffic was brought to a halt and made to wait for us.  I wondered whether they knew what was going on or why.  Perhaps they were irritated or were happy to patiently wait.

It was not long before we arrived at the first memorial and gathering in this cramped residential street seemed to be several hundered people around an otherwise inconspicuous monument.  I was glad to see that someone had removed the broken rail and replaced it with some new posts that would protect the monument.  Presumably someone had carelessly reversed into the old one and simply left it there.  There was a short service and the names of the victims at this location were read out along with their ages.  Arthur's name was read out, this was where Edie's grandfather had fallen, one of 75 to do so.

We filed on towards the second monument, where a chapel had been built as well as the memorial.  Instead of standing outside we all filed into the church and a more lengthy service was held.  This was the location where a further 25 were killed, including the mayor.  At both services I paid particular attention to the details of my surroundings and observed the expressions of those present.  Most were solemn but not tearful, maybe hardened by the years that have passed.

Although the services were given in Dutch, I knew enough to understand the meaning and impact of the event and I recognised the continuing importance to remember them.

I am glad I was there and I was glad I could hold the hand of An as we walked comfort that could be provided where I could.