Today, the 27th of January, is Memory's Day.
Today, in 1945, Allied troops freed Auschwitz lager, discovering the top of an iceberg made of foul anti-Semitism.
Italian writer Primo Levi, Jew, prisoner in another lager, wrote many books on his experience, before committing suicide.
Million of people have been imprisoned and killed in these lagers; among them, a relative of mine.
 
This topic is my little tribute to any racial victim, for example immigrants in Italy, who are often treated worst than beasts, and put into ghettos, therefore denying them any chance of integration.
Greetings,
Mauro.

I think that the very best thing that I gained from my military experience was the knowledge that under our skin all people are the same.  Being forced to live and interact with people from different backgrounds, origins, races, religions, etc.. taught me tolerance and freed me from many prejudiced notions from my upbringing.  It's a shame that everyone can't have some sort of similar horizon broadening experience and learn that there is an equal mix of good and bad in all races. There is still so much hatred in the world.  Most of it is based on ignorance.

Bump
 
I wrote a poem for English class today on a unit examining poetry that came from Ravensbruck, a labor camp designed for women only.  
 
I'm not sure what I really wanted to say, and I feel like I wayyyy overdid it. Whatever, it's the thought that counts.  
 
 
THE BEST TOOL, THE PAST
They turn their heads back, towards the seasons of what once was
What do they see that they truly comprehend?  
Can they place themselves, into husks of the fallen?
They go back in time, and see the wheat falling to scythe
This is fell wheat, and they aim to prevent such a harvest to happen again.
They look between the fields, at the individual crops to understand
So such harvest, will never occur again
No doubt, he who forgets to thresh, is doomed to a poor harvest
But can they place themselves, into the husks of the fallen?
To feel that same pain?
One man’s fell wheat, is another man’s October brew
Which strain of wheat is better, which plot of land worse?
Farmer Fuhrer tells us his wheat is ripe for harvest; Mother Brittney disapproves
Not of the wheat, no, but of the intrusion onto Uncle Molotov’s field
What do they care for, of a crop gone bad, or when their own safety is threatened?
They are individuals, just like that maize over there, just like that rutted path,
So well traveled, between the two fields
No, we must look at not just one field, not just it’s borders, not just all the farms put together, not of the weary farmers toiling under the hot sun, or all of the farmers put together
No, we must look at it as a whole, and hope the individual, will choose the best seed.

One year later - I've just finished watching "La vita è bella" ("Life's wonderful") by Roberto Benigni, I suggest you all to watch it.
And yep unfortunately what C_A wrote is true.
Greetings,
Mauro.