Saturday, April 09, 2005
Still Dirty And Smudged By The Land
I really, really like this letter, because it is such a depressing letter.
My father refused to serve in the army. In 1952 it was forbidden to refuse to serve in the army. That’s why my father had to serve in a camp for guys that refused to serve in the army. He had to work in the fields. He had to cut open the earth and carry smudge to another field. At July 31, 1952, he wrote this letter to my mother. They weren’t married yet.
Vledder, July 31 1952
Still dirty and smudged by the land, I don’t feel like washing myself. I sit here to write this final letter.
What should I do now? I am too worn-out anyway. How can I gather the strength together to hold myself back from calling you?
What is going on in Amsterdam? Why, goddamned, am I so far away from everything?
It is hard you didn’t write me, yet.
Is it so that you think "if he doesn’t write me… well, I won’t either?" Bah…
Or didn’t you even noticed that I didn’t write you?
God, glowing God, I’m so exhausted. What a support you are to me while I rot away here.
Why should I still care?