Guitars and War Memorials

Guitars and War Memorials

As I have told some of you before, I have visited many war memorials over the years.  If I can, I have played a few songs on my guitar about remembrance and hope in these hallowed places.  I feel like, even as unaccomplished a guitarist and singer as I may be, these men and women whose lives were taken with all their hopes and dreams deserve to have someone stop and say I love you and miss you and not be just be engrossed by the statuary.

Today I went to three memorials in my little town in Armenia.  Two were war memorials and the third was a memorial marking the day and time of the earthquake that devastated Armenia in 1988.  I did not have my guitar with me when I visited the Earthquake and World War II memorials but I intend to return before I leave.  

This is on the top of a very high hill on the outskirts of town.  It is a memorial to those from my little town who died in World War II  fighting against the Nazi's.  Last month, there was a celebration similar to our Memorial Day.  I watched events on television that, although I could not follow the language, that were reminiscent of what I have seen in America for years on Memorial Day.  Old men dressed up in their best suits adorned with medals and battle ribbons were being interviewed.  Some of the older men, I assume World War II veterans, were barely walking but there was a glint of pride in their eyes as they spoke of what their medals and ribbons were.  The Eastern Front was a particularly brutal place during World War II.

This Memorial stands about fifty high and there are three bells hanging from the top in the middle of the three legged tower.  Under the platform that the tower and bells sit on is a small chamber.  Inside on the walls are the names of all the soldiers from this little village memorialized with this monument.  Out of respect for their families and them, I did not take pictures inside.  My host who drove me up to the monument appeared to be looking at the names because he knew some of them.  I could tell he was in a thoughtful way so I did not ask him many questions in my meager Armenian.  I will return to this chamber so I may sing to them.

A devastating earthquake hit Armenia at 11:40 on December 7, 1988.  This is a Memorial to the exact time of the earthquake.  It sits about fifty feet from the World War II Memorial.  The 6.8 Seismic earthquake lasted less than 20 seconds but it killed between 25,000 and 50,000 people, injuring up to 130,000 more.  Many more were left without homes.  It hit northern Armenia.  The cities of Spitak, Vanadzor,  and Gyumri were hardest hit with Spitak being almost completely destroyed.  At the time, Armenia was still controlled by the Soviet Union.  Despite tensions between the Soviet Union and the United States, Premier Gorbachev asked for help.  Where I am living is about 120 kilometers from the epicenter of the earthquake but I am sure it had impacts here I will have to learn more about.

This last Memorial is to the 17 men who died in the attack by the Azerbaijan military in 1991.  All seventeen names are on the back wall with the cross above them.  I know that my host was involved in this battle and fought back with the Armenian forces.  I could tell by his reaction that he knew most or all of the seventeen men whose names are recorded here. My host family called it a police memorial but I am not sure why yet. This Monument is at the base of the street that connects their home to the town.  I walk by it every day as I go to work or just walk in to town.  After we returned from the drive to the World War II monument, he and the rest of the family had to go somewhere and left me to my own devices..  I walked down to the town with my guitar.  I stopped at the Memorial and sang a few songs about peace and love and John Lennon's "Imagine".  I know their names are still fresh to the townspeople but I wanted to let them know I cared as well.

Graham Nash wrote the beautiful song, "Cathedral" for piano and I have never tried to put it to guitar but it echoed in my mind as I walked away.  He says so many men have died in the name of Christ that I cannot understand.  I have never understood the concept of killing for the Prince of Peace.  I also thought of Johnny Cash's "Man in Black".  He has the line that so many fine young men died believing God was on their side killing fine young men who thought God was on their side.  So much waste, I just do not understand.  I will keep singing songs of light to the departed.