Just over a week ago I sat alone in the dark of a basement in a house in a residential area of a small town. A low wattage light cast a very low light on the room and with a few minutes of adjustment little was to be seen apart from the embers of a small brazier.
A dog began to bark in the distance,
footsteps, some hurried, are heard and muffled conversations as
individuals pass the small rectangular windows above my head at pavement level.
The lights percolating through
from the street outside flickered slightly and unevenly. A dull muffled bass sound
could be heard intermittently. The pace of steps outside increased, a low rumble
in a slowly gathering crescendo is perceived and the crack of gunfire can be heard
as the voices outside begin to shout with some urgency.
The noise overheard gathers pace
and the light in the basement imperceptibly twitches in response. At street
level vehicles race by and there is a lull in the crescendo briefly but then breaks
to be overtaken by a noise I’m not really familiar with. It doesn’t sound like
a lorry, more like a steamroller clanging across some cobbles. As it gets
closer and eventually passes the house it is obviously a tank. Its massive
tracks squeal and vibrate the house causing the light to dance about creating
patterns on the ceiling.
As this thunderous noise begins
to abate the rat tat tat of anti-aircraft fire takes over to add to the volume
of noise. The level of noise increases as approaching planes and their payload
arrive ominously closer. The basement is
loud, dark and vibrating with a deafening roar the like of which I’ve never
heard. Then as I wondered what would happen next and ask myself can it get any
louder or intense without the walls crashing down, it begins to recede.
The light in the basement begins to
stop swinging gently, as the noise seems to ebb away, the dog isn’t barking anymore
and a baby begins to cry………..
I was sitting in the basement of a house in the town of Bastogne in
Belgium. The basement was part of a recreation provided by 101st Airborne
museum to be found there. I couldn’t help think of the people in the Gaza strip and
basements in other conflicts all over the world. I can’t attempt to appreciate
the hell they endure but I hope the lights are still tonight in their
basements.
