WE MUST OPEN OUR HEARTS TO THE TALES OF AGONY
WE MUST OPEN OUR HEARTS TO THE TALES OF AGONY
Lynda Gilby
MY father fought in Burma with the 'forgotten 14th Army'. He was one of the lucky ones. He was neither I captured or wounded.
He came home in 1946, apparently unscathed. But he had raging nightmares, he walked in his sleep and for the rest of his life he refused, always, to talk about the war. The only clue he left behind, after his death, were fragments of some vivid, rather good Kiplingesque poetry - and this from a man I never knew to even write a letter, let alone read a book. He died of cancer at 54 - a legacy, I firmly believe, of suppressing the horrors he had witnessed. Now that that the candlelit vigils are over, the dead are buried and the memorial services done, the people of Omagh, hopefully, will be left to grieve in peace. Many - and not just the bereaved and injured - will be haunted by the terrible scenes they witnessed.
Some will not know how to deal with the tortured images imprinted on their retinas. They will need, desperately, to talk about them.
Pictures
Talking - and talking over again - repeating themselves until they are all talked out, is the best way of dealing with the pain: of robbing those images of the devastating force they exert. It takes a long time. And many people, like my father, will be reluctant to inflict such pictures upon the people closest to them - pictures, for example, of humanity reduced to hunks of butcher's meat. In such circumstances, such tales are best told to strangers or to uninvolved friends. Hundreds of people in Omagh - from the security forces and medical personnel to the ordinary punters at the scene who helped the injured, comforted the dying and retrieved the bloody fragments of the dead, will need counselling for many months to come. And logic dictates that there may well be too few counsellors to go round.
So if you know anyone who witnessed the tragedy at Omagh, don't try to comfort their pain away, don't encourage them to suppress-the memory. Let them air it again and again, no matter how harrowing it is for you to hear it. Just be there and listen - for as long
Lynda Gilby
MY father fought in Burma with the 'forgotten 14th Army'. He was one of the lucky ones. He was neither I captured or wounded.
He came home in 1946, apparently unscathed. But he had raging nightmares, he walked in his sleep and for the rest of his life he refused, always, to talk about the war. The only clue he left behind, after his death, were fragments of some vivid, rather good Kiplingesque poetry - and this from a man I never knew to even write a letter, let alone read a book. He died of cancer at 54 - a legacy, I firmly believe, of suppressing the horrors he had witnessed. Now that that the candlelit vigils are over, the dead are buried and the memorial services done, the people of Omagh, hopefully, will be left to grieve in peace. Many - and not just the bereaved and injured - will be haunted by the terrible scenes they witnessed.
Some will not know how to deal with the tortured images imprinted on their retinas. They will need, desperately, to talk about them.
Pictures
Talking - and talking over again - repeating themselves until they are all talked out, is the best way of dealing with the pain: of robbing those images of the devastating force they exert. It takes a long time. And many people, like my father, will be reluctant to inflict such pictures upon the people closest to them - pictures, for example, of humanity reduced to hunks of butcher's meat. In such circumstances, such tales are best told to strangers or to uninvolved friends. Hundreds of people in Omagh - from the security forces and medical personnel to the ordinary punters at the scene who helped the injured, comforted the dying and retrieved the bloody fragments of the dead, will need counselling for many months to come. And logic dictates that there may well be too few counsellors to go round.
So if you know anyone who witnessed the tragedy at Omagh, don't try to comfort their pain away, don't encourage them to suppress-the memory. Let them air it again and again, no matter how harrowing it is for you to hear it. Just be there and listen - for as long
Further Information
Publisher: SUNDAY LIFE
Ref: SL/047
Published Date: 23-Aug-98
Related Images
