Patiently waiting - and a message of hope

On Saturday morning, Gail and I met our friends M and J in Duthie Park. Dogs are not allowed in the park café and so I was left outside and told to wait patiently and quietly. 

Which I did, because I am a Good Boy. Through the window I could see Gail and her friends deep in conversation over their coffee and scones (or in Gail's case a croissant, score 7/10). 

You would never guess this from the pictures you've seen of M and J, and all you've heard about their intrepid exploits, but they are both quite a bit older even than Gail. The three humans were rather a long time in the café and later Gail explained that M, who is originally from Germany, had been talking of her experiences at the close of WW2 and how the appalling news from Ukraine had this week been prompting flashbacks. 

M and her Austrian mother had spent most of the war sheltering at her grandparents' remote mountain farm in Austria. As the Red Army approached, and tales of atrocities inflicted on the defeated civilian population spread, nine year old M and her mother fled west through an area of active conflict, eventually reaching the relatively safety of the American controlled part of southern Germany. There were no German men of military age to be seen. It was all women, children and old folk left to fend for themselves. 

This particular story has a happy ending as M saw peace return to her homeland. Later she moved to Scotland, enjoyed a fulfilling career lecturing at the University of Aberdeen, met and married a nice Scottish lecturer, J, and raised a lovely, talented daughter. Now there are two fine grandsons too. And M and J still have loads of energy for accompanying Gail and me on our weekly walks. 

Gail and I hope against hope that all those traumatised women and children currently fleeing from the Russian onslaught in Ukraine will likewise live to see happier days.