Before his death at 90, Mac Hutton was for some years a neighbour of ours. He was a member of a distinguished family with deep ties to this land. His brother, John, designed the engraving of the glass doors within the Wellington Cathedral and the Great West Screen of the Coventry Cathedral in England.
Mac, himself, was a gentle, unassuming man who had been a Raetihi farmer. One evening after tea, in our kitchen Mac quietly began to talk of his wartime experiences. He was a survivor of the brutal campaign at Monte Cassino, when General Freyberg's troops relieved American forces as the Allies were fighting their way to Rome. The story Mac told was harrowing and terrible in its graphic description of the price paid by ordinary soldiers, New Zealanders and others, for the goal of defeating the Nazis in WWII.
Books such as The Greatest Generation (Tom Brokaw) quite rightly call attention to the heroism of the (mostly) men from Allied countries who saved the world from the threat to civilisation that the Nazis posed. But the truth of heroism leaves out the other half of the story: the truth of the brutality of war, and its lingering effect on participants, no matter how noble their cause.
A new movie, Fury by director David Ayer seeks to make just that point as it follows an American tank crew in their dangerously under-armoured M4 Sherman tanks pushing towards Berlin against a hardened enemy in a ferocious campaign which saw both sides exhibit ugliness that men might wish to forget, but can't - and shouldn't.
We've been seeing the images of civilians including children killed and injured in Gaza - images that shock in the stark reality of suffering. We've only read about (but not somehow seen) the similar killing of civilians in Eastern Ukraine. Saved from the visual imagery, we are able to be less incensed, more detached. Similarly in Syria with its death toll of 100,000 and now again in Iraq where Isis (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) proudly exhibits its executions of prisoners and threatens civilian Christians, Yazidis, and Shi'ites with the same fate. In Mosul, Isis ordered the genital mutilations of all women aged 14-69.