A true hero


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I don’t know this man. I don’t even know his name but he was there. For an hour without end, lighting all the candles standing there, blown out by the wind, straightened the posters and so on. He kneeled there, on the cold stone that bit into my knees, lit candles in the chilling wind and wasn’t speaking any German. The people walking past looked at him with some strange kind of ‘who-is-that-man-what-is-he-doing-is-he-dangerous?!’ glance and walked past. none intended to help him and the most beautiful thing was the expression of surprise and thankfulness as I helped him with the poster he was kneeling on while I took the picture (the huge and heavy one – it was blown away by the wind, nearly dragged away and pulled out of our hands…)

I don’t speak that much french and the ‘allez’ and ‘arret!!’ he yelled at me during straightening up that nasty poster was the only thing he said to me… And even though this might sound weird- it was some kind of special moment- grooming this place together, a frenchman and me, to honor the fallen and injured…

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