A couple of days ago, New Zealand’s online news site Stuff published a photo by one of their photographers taken at dusk, in a cemetery on Gallipoli.
It’s a haunting image – apparently literally. Someone’s sitting on a seat in the distance, and beside them – in just one frame – is the apparent shadow, half-obscured by a flower which the shadow matches in dimension and shape, of a ghostly soldier. I can’t show you the photo, but I can refer you to it – here:
My take? Well, the spectral image could be someone from New Zealand’s tight and viciously exclusive military-historical in-crowd, at Gallipoli on a junket that, like their salaries, I’m funding through my taxes. But realistically it’s more likely to be that with a 2.5 second exposure you’ll get visual artefacts around the flowers on a CCD sensor – and that’s pretty much what the photo shows. No mystery there.
To me, though, the image underscores the importance of remembrance. A century ago, young men from across the world died – they died in strange lands, they died often without being found. They were casualties of what happened when the dark side of human nature was given form by the power of industry – warfare on an unprecedented scale, warfare industrialised, warfare given hideous intensity by the ingenuity of nineteenth century invention.
The world we know and love today would not exist, as it does, without the sacrifices of these young men; and they exist today not because there are ghosts, but because we remember them.
Copyright © Matthew Wright 2014