| During my first trip to Leningrad (now St Petersburg) in 1982, I had the opportunity to visit a cemetery. I already knew, of course, the stories of Leningrad's defense of its city against German invaders during World War II. I expected to see a statue, or some other memorial, to commemorate the sacrifice - but I was completely unprepared for what lay in front of me. This cemetery has a couple dozen mass graves - no individual graves - each filled with between 6,000-10,000 corpses. None of these were direct victims of the fighting; they were all victims of starvation. The cemetery has a memorial wall and an eternal flame, watched over 24-hours per day by an honour guard. At the time of my visit, there were many people (obviously Russian) carrying flowers which they placed upon whatever mass grave they had decided contained their loved ones - really, they have no idea. And still, after all the years, these people cried as they prayed and eventually left with a solemnity I've not seen before or since. The emotion of attending such a place overwhelmed me. At once, I felt that everyone in the world should be forced to visit this place and observe what war does; at the same time, I felt every bit the intruder, interfering with the grieving of these people. This visit and the feelings it engendered in me have not been lost over the years, and there is a lump in my throat as I type this, even now. Today happens to be the 33rd anniversary of when I stood in that cemetery. The video superimposes pictures from World War II on present day St Petersburg - Kazan Cathedral, the Catherine Palace, Nevsky Prospekt, and so on. prh, ed. |