The present age exists on an extension of the past ages piled up continuously. There are fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers and other ancestors. Someday my grandmother showed me a precious photograph of a soldier. Since my grandmother had many brothers and sisters and too young, she cannot realize who is that soldier. The man in military uniform, who is not listed in any family tree or document, might have survived the war and played a role for constructing the basis of the present. When a certain day in August comes, I vaguely remember that with the sound of the bell.

I know well that the war is tragic and that it is not good. Although I'm not sure if right wing or left wing is better, I just want to thank to our ancestors.