Every year on the 4th of may Holland wraps herself in a thick blanket of silence. She reflects inwards to the past, to the world wars all these years gone by and she feels the cold embrace of sorrow wrap itself like shredded seaweed around her heart.
She is enshrouded in loss and so she mourns deeply for the sons of her womb now lost forever.
There is an official ceremony to commemorate this loss; and everyyear wreaths and flowers are laid down at the foot of the monument .
The queen, the mother of the nation, speeks to the people. She speeks of their lost husbands, sons and fathers. She speaks of their courage and bravery and valour. She speaks of the sacrifice of their lives for the wellbeing and continued exisitence of the Motherland.
Yes, Holland does not forget her fallen soldiers.Year after year on this day, she will bow her head and gnash her teeth and clutch her bosom in pain.To honour the lost sons of the land, she has even set up a monument in honour of the Unknown Soldier.
This is a mother's love at it's fiercest. Who dares stand between?
We the daughters you have ignored and forgotten. The daughters who in our own way fought alongside your sons. We the daughters who also selflessly gave our pound of flesh time after time for the good of the nation.
We were there all along in different shapes and sizes holding the fort at home when our men were gone and keeping the faith alive back home. We were there in the hearts of the men there on the battlefields, as beacons of hope, spurring them to go on; one step after the other. We hugged their spirits and warmed their minds as we whispered in their ears during their brief respite of sleep saying "come back safe, come back whole, come back to me". A fair share of us walked the edge in the resisitance, smuggled behind enemy lines to pendle back and forth, playing Russian Roulette with a smile on our faces.
Now the great wars are gone and we are left now only with memories of our loss. Mother Holland cries for her boys but fails to hear the lament of her daughters. "There are also casualties here" we shout, "Can you not see our pain? " We also are victims of war and doubly so, victims of the sons who raped and plundered and dishonoured and ruined.
The dead soldiers are mourned and the living came home as heroes. The daughters were publicly shamed, shaved and spat upon for sleeping with the enemy; our sorry offspring forever the bitter rejects of the Motherland. There is no mention of our bravery or of our courage or our valour. There is no monument for us, the female soldiers of the great wars.
There is no solitary monument standing proud, decked with garlands on the 4th of May; to mark the quiet life and passing of the Unknown Raped Woman. There is no 2 minutes of silence to hear the quiet songs of the sacrifices we made.
Sometimes, I feel like a motherless child....