In a gully in the center of this town which is dominated by a factory,
there is a museum of the history of the town. I
went back a few days later on a Saturday when it was open.
There were four men in there. All of my generation. I knew without their
saying it that they were veterans who still remembered the war.
Even though it was fifty years ago. I felt a bond with them,
but I do not think it was mutual.
On the walls of the museum were pictures of the Pacific Front.
Battleships; the names of those from the town who had died.