Responsibility For Srebrenica Genocide Determined

In July 1995, 8000 Muslim boys and men were killed in a genocide in a tiny town in Bosnia, close to the Serbian border, as part of the Bosnian war. This past week, the Bosnian Serb leader at the time has been found responsible for this crime, and sentenced to 40 year jail.

Driving through this tiny town, and stopping to pay my respects, was a powerful end to my time in Bosnia, as the memory of these tragedies of the war hovered over much of the country, and stories shared about the nation.

Now perhaps, people can start to heal.

There were also many messages pleading to "Never Forget: and "Never Again". But then, the world does not learn. These horrors continue today, in Sudan. In Myanmar. In Syria. In Yemen. In so many places.

A Sarajevo Rose

The scars of a mortar shell filled with red resin, to mark the site where more than one person was killed during the Seige of Sarajevo. Powerful reminders dot the city streets.

This one was in a square, in front of a church. The bombs falling on the city were so many, and so destructive.

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Where The Great War Began....

Looking down the Miljacka River to the point on the opposite bank that played such a significant part in the Great War. Here, at the Latin Bridge was were Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in 1914, which triggered the beginning of World War I.

Sarajevo is full of history, war, sadness, memories, and resilience. So interesting!

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Honiara's Japanese WWII Memorial

Another Pacific island nation to have some significant role in World War II because of it's position in the ocean, and thus, being in the middle of things around the Japanese assault, was the Solomon Islands.

The Japanese War Memorial is up in the hills from Honiara, on Mount Austen, and is tricky to find, but worth the attempt.

When we arrived there, after taking a few wrong turns, we found that it was closed - but managed to catch someone's attention near by, and it was opened for us to go in and have a look.

It's simple, beautiful, and commands such a feeling of peace. No war symbols, no graphic reminders of death and battle. No long list of names.

The plaque on one of the side of the marble structure in the centre speaks of the idea that the upward feature of the standing marble should assist the final journey of the spirits of those lost.

The Apartheid Museum

The pillars of the South African constitution stand tall at the front of the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, and instantly fills you with pride as you enter. Pride for the achievement of the battles of this country to rise above the ingrained racism and divide. Pride at the memory of the great man, Nelson Mandela, and his life's struggles and work.

I went along to visit the Museum with the tour group, after consulting the blog from last time I was in South Africa, and discovering that I had only managed to see some of the contents inside on my way to the airport. And I am so glad I made the return. The visit gave such renewed context to this country, and it's rebirth as the Rainbow Nation.

Some of the group actually found the entry point, once we had purchased our tickets, pretty confronting, as the ticket determined at random whether you walked through the 'Whites' or 'Non-Whites' entry - a point well made, right at the start. The worry of missing out on something of the Museum that others got to experience - so well done, albeit such a small demonstration of the segregation.

The Museum is rich with information, and the curation is very thorough. You could spend hours here, taking it all in, and we did! The timeline of events, the outline of the major people in the fight against Apartheid, and the tale of the uprising from passive protests, to increasing violence and resistance.

Visiting at present, in the year of the passing of Nelson Mandela, lent a special significance to the exhibits of the Museum, and in fact the Temporary Space had a Mandela: An Exhibition Celebrating The Life Of Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela. This stepped the visitor through times of as a Leader, as a Comrade, a Negotiator, a Prisoner, and a Statesman. A full outline of his early childhood days, where he got his name from, the background of his clan and the name Madiba, and then his professional life and influences.

It then also presents the struggle and fight, his imprisonment, and his release, before his leadership of South Africa to become the country it is today - a place developing into his vision of equality.

A powerful, absorbing visit, and a must for every visitor to South Africa to gain an understanding of the underpinning of the country and it's tensions and vision for the future. A work in progress, with an incredible foundation to reach the dream.

Resting Place Of Breaker Morant

The story of Breaker Morant is one etched into the Australian folk law, I assume because we all studied it at school, and the name is paired with the notion of "war hero" and a sense of injustice and wrongdoing.

A Lieutenant in the Second Boer War, Morant and colleague Hancock were court martialed and sentenced to death for the summary execution of captured prisoners-of-war - so a convicted war criminal.

But much speculation surrounds the events and evidence of the deaths of the captured prisoners, and I remember clearly the arguments around chain of command and therefore responsibility from our studies of the story at school. Re-reading some of the background for this post, I am now, again, totally confused about the circumstances. But I remember the name as such an important one within the fabric of Australian war history.

Morant was buried with Hancock in Pretoria, where they were both executed just over 100 years ago.

I wouldn't have actually recalled the connection with South Africa and this Aussie war story, but for a little snippet about the gravesite in the Lonely Planet. On a day off before the cricket in February, around the anniversary of their deaths in fact, we made a trip to search out such a unique part of Australian wartime stories.

The graves are in Hero Acre Cemetery, which was not actually labelled as such, and our very patient bongo-driver tried his best to work with our lack of an idea of what we were looking for. When we got to the unmarked cemetery, we all walked around for some time, reaching a point where I was sure some of the group was going to give up on such a hunt, with such flimsy instructions to find what we were looking for.

But then someone spotted the little sign on a path, which pointed us to the right section, and we had found it. It felt pretty significant to reach the resting point of such a famous name, in such a tricky place to find. A very Aussie moment, on another continent, far away.

Finding The Scattered Remains of the B-25 Coral Princess On Top Of Nauru

Lying at the top of the island nation of Nauru, among the remaining phosphate pinnacles and between the jungle that has grown in the tropical environment of this Pacific Island, is the wreckage of a World War II bomber plane.

The plane is part of the occupation story of Nauru, when the Japanese had hold of the island in an important strategic location for it's assault on the Pacific. The plane, the US Coral Princess, was on a bombing mission but was hit by Japanese fire in June 1944. Wreckage landed all over the country, but most of it remains where it landed, being up on the highest point of Nauru, near the very anti-aircraft gunner that brought it down. All 6 men on board were killed on impact, with just 2 bodies initially recovered from the difficult terrain by the Japanese occupants.

Some parts of the plane are now on display in Canberra's Australian War Memorial, and a couple of pieces are in the Nauru Military Museum and in someone's front yard along the international runway, but the rest is still right where it landed.

Laying eyes on the crumpled but distinctly unnatural pieces of the plane is the reward for climbing in and over the trees, plants, and rugged pinnacles, after finding the right path from the middle road towards Buada Lagoon. I went with a couple of pretty sporty people, one of which had done the "bomber track" before, and was confident of where we were going.

Searching for the marking pink ribbons along the way, the track is sometimes clear, and most times not. It's hard going, and pretty dangerous at times, and a wrong foot could definitely have had me still up there! We got lost a few times, and I needed help to get through and down from the climb on more occasions than I would like to admit!

It started to rain just as our group had reached the top, and I gave way to safety and concentration rather than taking the volume of photos I could have. Much of the sights of the various parts of the plane will now have to remain in my own memory.

The wreckage is scattered all over the area, and it paid to keep an eye out for any metal-like bits, to discover another section of the small plane. Some lying on top of the pinnacles, some have come to rest down the crevices of this strange landscape.

So rare is it to have the opportunity to feel like you are discovering something, which is how coming across this wreckage seems. Knowing it's there, and hearing the stories is one thing, but putting in the effort to go and see it was incredible. I was pretty proud and pleased with myself for making the trek - and getting out of there alive and in one piece!

Nauru is a tiny nation, with limited tourist spots to check off, but this little adventure is certainly one to try - with someone who at least has a vague idea of where to go! Many locals I have spoken to have not done the walk, nor even know where to start it, so visitors need to do some asking around. The vision of the engine lying there on the highest point is reward for the physical challenge!

(Thanks to Pacific Wrecks, for the information on the wreckage!)

The Rubble Of Christchurch

Seeing the state of the Cathedral in the centre of town in Christchurch in August was pretty confronting. It's in ruin. That gorgeous spire toppled in the force of the earthquake in February 2011, and that gaping space where is was smacks you in the face with the reality of a city still far from rebuilding.

Walking around the city centre, you could be mistaken that you have wondered into a modern day ghost town - there is such limited activity, very little people, and not much is functioning and open.

Many building facades are still being held up with shipping containers, as funds and the engineering expertise is gathered to repair and rebuild.

There is also a mall in town, next to the actual mall, set up in containers, so that businesses can continue to trade - Re:Start is a genius pop up shopping precinct which is such a symbol of resilience for this city.

I had thought the idea of a touristy exhibit about the quake could be in bad taste when I first heard about it, but after walking through the streets to Re:Start, I decided to visit to get a better understanding of these 2 quakes that happened in a tight time space, and has effectively brought this city to a standstill.

Quake City steps through the experiences of the quake, the loss, the damage, and the aftermath. It made it the sights out in the street make sense, and honoured the lost 185 lives in the Feb 2011 quake. Personal accounts, pieces recovered.... Incredibly sad, and powerful displays, I spent a bit of time here taking it all in.

Back out into the streets, I continued walking around the town centre, getting a view of the ruins.

Amid all this rubble and sad devastation, there is hope - and art! Every other corner has a community arts project, bringing colour and life to an area stripped of so much. 

185 Empty Chairs

Returning to Christchurch this month was pretty confronting, seeing the devastation of the earthquakes of 2010 and 2011 and the ongoing state of disrepair of the city. Memories of my visit with Mum back in 2009 made the experience of walking through what felt like a ghost town now all the more.

As I walked around the rubble, nothing was as powerful as the art installation named 185 Empty Chairs.

Out in the open, these chairs, all white, are placed to represent each person lost as a result of the February 2011 earthquake.

All kinds of chairs, which is a moving representation of the ages and range of people the quake took. Some of the chairs in the installation actually belonged to the person for whom it represents.

As Christchurch works away at recovery and the rebuild, this art is a strong symbol of what happened, and the impact these natural forces have had on the city.

The Death Railway And Hellfire Pass

Riding the railway from Kanchanaburi to Nam Tok, as far as the rail goes now, is a sombering experience. I love travelling on a train, but everytime I felt myself get carried away with the clack of the tracks and the gentle rocking of the rickety carriage, I reminded myself of the sacrifices made to lay these very tracks down.

The train rolls across the bridge over Mae Klong River - made into the River Kwai by Hollywood and the movie of the same name, and then heads away from town through the countryside.

It soon glides over a Viaduct, on the edge of a mountain, and the wonder of how these POWs built this section returns.

They say that for every railway sleeper on this track, there was a POW death on the construction process.

We rode the train for 2 hours, before disembarking and then getting a driver to take us to the section referred to as Hellfire Pass, 18 kms away. The Museum here is managed by the Australian Department of Veteran Affairs, Office of War Graves, and it very well done. After walking through the rooms of information, we walked the paths to get down to the cutting that the Aussies named after the vision of themselves in the lighting in the cutting as they were forced to work long into the night, starved and emaciated, resembling scenes from hell.

The cutting is 25 metres deep at it's highest point, and was cut with the most rudimentary tools. Without even considering the state of the men forced to complete such work, this feat is incredible.

This is also the place where Sir 'Weary' Dunlop's ashes were spread, as a plaque reminded me as we got down to the track level of the pass.

Such an important part of Australian and Aussie Digger history, in addition to the other Allied and Asian labourers lost in this piece of WWII. A very important place to visit, and learn about.




Getting back to Kanchanaburi, Dave and I had our driver drop us back at the Bridge, and we had a very late lunch at one of the floating restaurants so we could take in the sunset colours highlighting the view. We even caught sight of a train crossing over, scattering the hordes of tourists getting their movie photos.

Remembering The Fallen In Kanchanaburi

Dave and I travelled up to Kanchanaburi by bus from Bangkok, and after settling on a guesthouse on the river's edge, we set off to take in the significance of this Thai town.  I think it took me the whole visit to get to a point where I said the town's name properly!

Firstly, we went through the Death Railway Museum, which gave us a good overview of what went on here and on the construction of the railway line all the way across the border to Burma. Part of the Japanese World War II campaign to open up a way of getting supplies through, 60,000 Allied Prisoners of War and 180,000 Asian labourers were enslaved to build the line under the most hideous of conditions.

Across the road is the Kanchanaburi War Cemetery, where 2,815 Australian POWs who lost their lives during the construction have been laid to rest. 6,318 English POWs' graves occupy half of this cemetery, whilst the remaining plots are Dutch, New Zealander and Canadian, with many simply marked "An Allied Soldier". The US actually suffered the highest of the Allied POW losses, however their soldiers were repatriated for burial after the Japanese surrender.

Walking through the rows of Aussies, it was as moving as that experience at Anzac Cove, with so many lads around my age, killed in such unimaginable circumstances.

Many headstones held messages from family at home, and listed where the men were from. I spotted one woman buried here too, a volunteer within the medical unit. So many deaths were due to sickness, starvation, and also the brutality during the "Speedo" phase of construction, when the Japanese started to panic about their timelines for the completion of the railway, and things became more brutal.

So senseless. The world never seems to learn about the pointlessness of war.

Thai Embassy Burning

One of the primary targets of the rioting in Phnom Penh back in January 2003 was the Thai Embassy.  The destruction of the building was pretty symbolic and complete by the raging mob on that night.

Again, the chance to have a look at such destruction was pretty tempting, coming from somewhere like Australia where Occupational Health & Safety, and general liability fears, would prevent anyone from going anywhere near such damage. Not to mention the criminal investigations that would go on if such a thing was to occur at home.  Not in Cambodia though.

The sight of massive military tanks on the street, barbed wire attempting to look like the area was cordoned off, and the police presence was there - just not very effective. Nor were they trying to be.

Taking in the pink Royal Thai Embassy, sooty and a shell, we were actually able to get up to the gate to have a look through the broken gates.

The smell and the sight of the burnt out car at the front, told the tale of the night of that week.  All sparked by a comment, maybe exaggerated and highlighted in the "right" circles for such a response.  This event was such an eye-opener as an Expat.

Again, at no time did we feel unsafe while all this went on, it was very targetted and all over in a few hours.  But just a strange example of the way such a country works sometimes - or doesn't, depending on which side of the riot you believe.

This post is part of a series marking 10 years since I travelled to Cambodia to work as a volunteer.

The Australian War Memorial

Friday night in Canberra I finally got to visit the Australian War Memorial, a place I have been very keen to see for many years.  Our Welcome function was held here for the Human Brochure weekend, and we got a glimpse into this iconic and very moving site to honour those who have served and been lost in war for Australia.

We arrived as the sun was out, and the moon featured above the sandstone building.  From the front steps, we could see the roads leading to Parliament House, and to the side a statue to remind us of the Samson and his Donkey story from Gallipoli.

Our groups gathered and took in the building, before being invited inside.  We were able to explore the commemorative courtyard, take in the mass of names and poppies along the Roll of Honour, and also experience the Hall of Memory.

Such a beautiful place, with the reflecting pool taking in the balconies above.  Walking along the Wall of Honour, the sheer number of names was incomprehensible, and was a solemn mark of remembrance for all battles Australian soldiers have been been involved in and lost their lives.

At the end of the commemorative courtyard was the stunning Hall of Memory, with the Tomb of the Unknown Australian Solider, representing all who have given their lives for our nation.

The Hall features stained glass windows, and mosaic pieces, each with significant wartime significance to the our servicemen and women.

Our evening featured welcomes from the Memorial, and the Australian Capital Tourism who had brought us all here to see what Canberra has to offer visitors.

We were then invited to walk through the Orientation Gallery, out into the Aircraft Hall.  It was clear there was so much to access on a normal visit to the Memorial, and this wander was a taste of the rich volume of wartime history collected here in the one place.

The Aircraft Hall featured many of the planes used in the World War I conflict, which was just mind-boggling to see, given the standards of plane travel today.

Here, we were treated to a film produced by Peter Jackson, and then offered talks of the various features of this area of the Memorial.

Seeing just a portion of the Memorial like this just affirmed my long held desire to be here for an ANZAC Day Dawn Service.

It has also made me realise that I will need to allow plenty of time to take it all in properly, because there is so much to take in, and so many sections to visit to get the full wartime history on display.

This post is part of the #humanbrochure weekend to showcase Canberra as a destination, which I attended as a Plus One, with Carly Findlay.  We were part of the Food and Wine Stream, in the Australian Capital Territory Tourism initiative. 

Ashes of the Royal Phnom Penh Hotel

With the prison sentence of a Cambodian radio station host this week, for broadcasting political messages on the wrong side of the present government, I got a rush of memory about a riot started by the very same kind of medium back in January of 2003 - when the streets of Phnom Penh went crazy, all around us!

Reportedly the result of a broadcast about comments made by a Thai actress stating that Angkor Wat really belonged to Thailand, an angry and destructive mob ruled the streets for a night.

Ash was visiting at the time, and Rach and I were living behind the National Museum - we had a view from our balcony of some of the action including gunshots in our street, all carried out by several herds of people on motorbikes.  The power had gone out, and we watched on in safety above the streets.

As foreigners, we seemed to be perfectly safe, with the mob being very targeted to Thai owned businesses. In the aftermath the border between Thailand and Cambodia was closed, but not for non-Nationals of either country, and Thai nationals were evacuated from the city.  The political blame game in the week after just added to the bemusement of expats and the ongoing corruption allegations that were rife.

Of the Thai businesses around the city that were targeted, and set alight and allowed to burn down to the ground, the Royal Phnom Penh Hotel struck a chord with our group living and working in PP, as that was the venue for our Xmas lunch just the month before.

Adding to the surreal nature of the week, in the days after the riot people off the street brazen enough to walk past the nonchalant "security" guards with guns at the entrance were able to walk through the ruins of the Hotel.  These photos are what it looked like on the day I went for a look.

It was irresistible to go and try to walk through the burnt out shell of the building, through the corridors and rooms, and past the pool in it's devatated state.  Where else would you ever get such a chance to see something like this!  Effectively a crime scene, with no one really caring to preserve or bother with the course of justice.

Cars and vans in the parking lot out the front were burnt out, and remained where they had been set alight.

People stood around and watched on - but the real activity was going on inside the building. Looters were working away at pulling everything of worth out of the rubble, with most focus being on the copper within the wiring of the rooms.  Teams of kids and men were frantic, getting their score of goodies.

There was still smoke billowing out of sections of the rubble as we walked through, soot and ash floating around the air and coating the tourists and opportunists the same.

Given the standing structure of the building, it didn't feel gravely dangerous to wander around in there - but a thrillingly forbidden experience nonetheless. There were certainly areas where you needed to tread more carefully, but given the volume of people in the building, and the path of the looters in the hours before, we were fine.

Unlike the jail sentence this week, there were arrests made after this riot in 2003 for incitement, bail was posted after much controversy about the arrests and no trial was ever set.  Life went back to normal pretty quickly, buildings were rebuilt in no time, and all that was left was a wondrous disbelief about whether it all really happened!

This post is part of a series marking 10 years since I travelled to Cambodia to work as a volunteer.

Americas Wars Memoralised

Along the Mall in Washington DC is not only the iconic monuments that the world is pretty familiar with, but each of America's past wars also have a space of remembrance - each pretty impressive in their own right.

The first as you walk towards Lincoln from the Washington Monument, is the World War II Memorial. This oval water feature is surrounded by columns representing each US state, and the Pacific and Atlantic efforts. This memorial also features the Freedom Wall, which 4049 gold stars and has the marking "the price of freedom", each star representative of 10 American lives lost or missing during this battle.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is on the North side of the site of the Reflecting Pool, and stands as black granite with about 58000 names of the men and women fallen to this war, also with a little cross next to the names missing in action.

The names listed across the two sides of the wall are done some in chronological order, and marks the vast waste of life. The design of the memorial is aimed to give no political statement about this battle, but the sheer size and volume of names speaks for itself.

It brought to mind that speech former Australian Prime Minister gave at the Gallipoli Dawn Service in 2005, about how war not only robs the world of these people who have died, but also of their potential. Their feats at home, maybe academically, scientifically and within humanitarian achievements, their potential loves and children leading to future generations, all lost because of war.

On the South side of the Reflecting Pool is the Korean War Veterans Memorial, and is the most eeriest and surreal monument. It is a section of garden, with statues placed through it decked in true equipment as they would have been during this era, and a wall showing faces etches from actual photos from the National Archives of the personnel of this war.

There are 19 soldiers here, representing a ratio of ethnic cross section of the numbers lost in this battle. The men are staggered in formation, and yet quite alone in each one's stalking of the jungle - it's such a real sense of what it may have been like to be on patrol like this. So powerful.

So many of these sites include words from great beings at the time, talking of protecting freedoms and human rights, and upholding justice and world peace. It's really quite sad taking these in, when considering the state of the world at the moment.

The most powerful wording for me was found at the FDR Memorial near by, etched on these stones: