Ex-Serviceman Sgt Boko Remembers World War 2
A Touch Of Nokoko By Kofi Akumanyi
Thanks for your letter of January 16 in which, among other things, you asked me to find you decent army uniform from the Government Surplus Store here and ship it to you in time for the observation of VE day at Aboabo. To be honest with you, I thought you were joking because I never believed it for a moment that there would be any such thing as VE day at Aboabo village until a friend pointed out to me that you might, in fact be joining your fellow Ex- servicemen at Cape Coast for a celebration of sorts.
Anyway, I posted the uniform (I included a pair of boots and a hat for a smarter dress parade) and the essential items you requested and I hope that you received them early enough for the day in spite of the appalling postal delivery system. I hope you will write and tell me how the day was observed.
Over here it has been a week of painful memories for all those who fought in the war, suffered one way or the other or lost a dear one. The newspapers, magazines, radio and television have been telling us the story of the end of the Second World War in vivid detail throughout the week. There have been films of the war which brought tears into the eyes of even those of us who had not been born during the war.
To begin with our dear Ronald Reagan (I'm sure you've heard about him) the president of the United States of America who has been called names since he assumed the presidency for his over-the-top policy on arms limitation, caused a rumpus by declaring his intention to visit Bitburg cemetery in West Germany when he attended the annual Western Economic summit.
"No you don't", said the media and American Jews whose vivid memory of the atrocities of Hitler's SS men at Auschwitz convinced them that Reagan would be honouring the memory of the horrible hatchet men. "How could you think like that, countered Reagan "I'm in fact visiting the graves of American servicemen and not the gravestones of 47 Hitler's SS men at Bitburg... And anyway, some of these men were also victims of atrocities..”
In spite of this astonishing gaff in even failing to check up on who is buried at Bitburg and his subsequent attempts to repair the damage to his credibility, the president did visit the cemetary and the SS men, I imagine, smiled in their graves. Probably, the monster, Heinrich Himmler described as Adolf Hitler's evil master butcher also raised his hand in an SS salute. The Daily Mirror published for the first time an exclusive picture of him in the moment of death.
HIMMLER'S BRAIN
Uncle Boko, that picture on the front page of the paper must have all Jews and peace-loving people shaking with emotion. The story as told by Lance-Corporal Bill Carrotte, then aged 29, who was guarding Himmler when he committed suicide by biting into a cyanide capsule was a veritable tale of horror. The quick-witted soldier quickly arranged with a friend to take a snap shot kept from officials for forty years for fear of prosecution.We have also learnt that before Himmler was buried in an unmarked grave his brain was removed and sent to London for examination by scientists so they could discover the source of evil. I wonder whether the doctors who conducted it did ever find out the chemical components of Himmler's brain which made him behave the way he did.
Now, thinking about all this which happened in far-away Europe, during the second world war beginning from 11.15 on Sunday 3 September 1939 when in the gloomy tones of Neville Chamberlain, the then Prime Minister (later replaced by the dynamic Winston Churchill on May 10, 1940) declared "This country (Britain) is at war with Germany", I sometimes wonder what business it was of yours to have fought in Burma as we all heard when we were children.
I quite remember in those days when you and your ex-servicemen friends were feared in the villages around and tales were often told of your exploits, bravery and sheer guts in the jungles of Burma fighting alongside the British against the Japanese.
But then I never really understood why you, a Ghanaian and many others, had to fight in Burma and elsewhere, far removed from your immediate environment. In fact as I remember it, nobody could explain the war to us properly except the usual story that made the local rounds to the effect that since we "Gold Coasters" were British subjects we had to be involved when His Majesty King George VI called on us to help fight the fascists.
Well, there appears to be a happy side to even a sordid period such as the last war. Some of the American GIs who were in Britain met some young nice girls, fell in love and amid all the chaos managed to father children they did not take back to America. Some of the women, now in the twilight of their lives - in their sixties and seventies - have travelled across the Atlantic to meet their wartime sweethearts. One such couple is planning to marry soon.
Uncle Boko, if your two wives and fifteen children are anything to go by then I swear by the gods of Aboabo, there are likely to be a few coloured Asians somewhere in Burma who are wondering who their father is. You may like to take a trip to Burma some day to look up your sweetheart, Uncle, but I'm sure money is the only limiting factor.
But there is one aspect of this celebration that has not been fully explained - what would the Germans do when the rest of Europe, America and the so-called free world is jubilating and remembering their defeat?
One young German's feeling perhaps sums it up: "This anniversary must be celebrated. But my parents disagree with me. People my parents age get angry because they can never know how much guilt their own parents must take. My generation asks questions my father's generation was frightened to ask. For them it was opening a dark cupboard into the family's past... for us it is just history".
Well, history has an uncanny way of repeating itself. Do write and tell me how you observed the day.
Cheers.
