Individual.

Usually when I think of a rat, I think of a pest that no one in general likes. Or I think of the saying, “I smell a rat,” And it’s always in a negative way. Another thing I think of about rats is at work, when the Rat Man comes to do his quarterly checks, around the huge building and gardens. This week however, my views of rats changed, possibly for ever. As I was walking in the hot sun, having walked someone to a local event, on a road I don’t usually walk on, suddenly I saw him, a large fat dead rat! All his dignity had gone, there was nothing to protect him, he could not protect himself, his little legs was stretched out straight behind him. I felt SO sorry for him. I assumed he had been killed by poison that had been put down to kill him, I wondered how he must have felt after he had eaten the bait, was it a quick slow death or almost instant, either way he would have felt helpless, fear and rubbish!

A few days before this, my daughter Meghan had asked me to watch with her the film, The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas, it was a Sunday evening, and I really didn’t want to watch it, I just wanted to chill and watch telly and sleep off and on. But to be fair to her, she had asked me many times before, and I’d said, “No,” There was no getting out of it now, so I said, “OK,” It was on her Netflix. The three of us sat down to watch it, and I soon fell asleep. When I woke up the little boy had made friends with the other little boy, he was in the pyjamas and huge barbed wires separated them, they were playing a board game with the lad who was free to come and go was moving both pieces, he would move his piece and whatever the other lad wanted moving.

Days before the Lad had sneaked and saw a lovely film of how the people in the striped pyjamas lived. In the camps, they were treated very well, his Papa and a few other important men had been watching it at his parents large and beautiful home. 

The lad who was free to come and go, his family would be moving far away the next day and the lad in the striped pyjamas, had said, “My Papa is missing,” The freed lad said,” Tomorrow I will come and help you look for your Papa, and I will bring you a huge sandwich.”

With just hours before they were to move out, he asked his Mum, “Can I go and play in the garden?” She was reluctant, but let him go out. The boy then smuggled out a large ham baguette sandwich, he tucked into his back pocket, with his shirt covering it, off he went to his friend to help him look for his Papa. On the way he brought a spade.

His best friend was waiting, he asked, “Did you forget the sandwich.?” It was then he realised it had fallen out of his pocket!

With the little spade he began to dig from his side from underneath the huge barbed wires, very soon he was on the inside, the lad who lived in the camp had remembered as planned, to bring striped pyjamas and a hat for his friend, the hat was important, because he had a lot of hair, unlike his friend who had clean shaven, bald head. Now they looked exactly the same. With no time to waste, they set off to find his Papa. I supposed it was like an adventure for the lad who had just arrived from outside the camp.

They went straight into the sleeping quarters, full with manly gaunt, thin adults, the boy who was from outside the camp, said to his friend, “This is not like the video I saw Papa watching,” He was genuinely shocked!

Back in the big rich house, it was time to go and his mother could not find him anywhere, the swing where she thought he was, was empty!!  In a panic, she informed her husband, and together along with his sister, they looked for him in the gardens and beyond, and it was then like a trail and a clue as to which direction he had taken, they saw the ham sandwich and then followed on straight, it led them to the freshly dug hole that led to the dreaded camps.

Five minutes before this, the solders had come in and had demanded, “Everyone leave the sleeping quarters of the camp,” So, in a mad rush all was driven out and down the road, the two little boys, best friends, had no choice, as they were caught up in the middle of the crowd. They were all taken into a tiled room with no windows and was ordered to, “Strip for a shower.” None of them had the luxury of a shower before and as hungry and thirsty as they all were, they could see no harm in a mass shower, yes there was fear, in most of the adults’ hearts, for there had been rumours. The two little boys stripped, I am sure the boy from outside, didn’t expect this when he got up that morning, but neither did the little boy who lived in the camp with his beloved Papa, that they would be stripping for a mass shower a few hours after they had woken up.

Outside the shower room, a hundred yards away, the little boy who had just put on the striped pyjamas, his parents were frantic, shouting and screaming his name, over and over again as they ran here and there to find their precious child.

In the shower room the top of the ceiling was opened and the deadly chemicals was thrown in on top of the people below.

The Mother is shown on her knees, crying without hope, inconsolable, for the loss of her little baby boy.

Both of these, highlighted, precious individuals.

RIP, to those in the camps.