Potato Time Travelling

My grandfather served in the Pacific Theatre of WWII and I had the opportunity of living in the Flanders for a season. The potato incident was also factual &forms the core basis of this short story.

Patrick, driven by his fascination with history, seized the chance to travel to Europe and stay in the Flanders region. He eagerly explored the historical trails of the Great War, following the paths of soldiers who had fought and fallen long ago. His thoughts often turned to his grandfather, who had been a young 'digger' during those dark times. Patrick wondered how his grandfather had felt, standing on the same soil, facing unimaginable hardships.

Staying with Julian, a friend who lived in an old farmhouse, Patrick found the farmhouse with its rustic charm and creaky attic to be a perfect temporary home. He enjoyed helping the farmers with their daily tasks, feeling a deep connection to the land and its history.

One day, Patrick and Julian walked through the fields when a truck laden with potatoes rumbled past them on a narrow farm lane. The truck hit a bump, causing a few potatoes to tumble onto the ground. Without hesitation, Patrick scooped them up and stuffed them into his jacket.

"Why are you picking those up?" Julian asked, raising an eyebrow. "People around here just throw away bruised potatoes. They're spoiled."

Patrick shook his head. "It feels wrong to waste them, especially here, where so much has happened. These potatoes are part of this land's history, just like the war monuments and markers."

Julian nodded, respecting Patrick's sentiment. They continued their walk to the apple orchard, where they spent a joyful afternoon picking apples and eating them with other children. The laughter and play brought a sense of normalcy and happiness to Patrick’s journey.

At dinner that evening, Patrick proudly served the potatoes he had found. Julian's mother, observing his determination to use them, smiled and shook her head. "You have a wise soul, Patrick," she said gently. "You see the connection between our lives and the history that shaped them. It's a rare and precious thing."

Patrick felt a warmth in his heart as he looked around the table. He realized that every moment, every action, held a piece of history within it. The land, scarred by war and nourished by time, had stories to tell. And in his small way, by honouring even the bruised potatoes, he was paying tribute to those stories and the people who had lived them.

As he drifted off to sleep in the attic that night, Patrick felt a deep sense of peace. He knew that his journey through Flanders was more than just a historical exploration. It was a journey of connection, understanding, and respect for the past that continues to shape the present.

Author's Note

🥔 🥔 🥔

Reviews

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

it is a very thought-provoking story. seems uneventful on the surface, but the characters are in the process of learning. we did not come out of thin air, we each have a historical legacy to carry. the children of soldiers should pay respects for the sacrifices their fore-fathers made, and also to bury some hatchets. my grand-uncle was a soldier for the japanese imperial army in ww2. this is a complicated legacy to carry, knowing that he had to some extent partook in war crimes. he died as a pow in siberia. my grandmother (his sister) visited the ussr and the russian federation. she fell in love with this country, our former enemy. that is my story, but everyone has a family background with extraordinary stories, and we must not forget them or de-value them for they have so much to teach us still.

[Red Brick Keshner]

That moved me so much Ern-san! My granddad was attached to the 41st INF USAFFE at the onset of WWII. He survived the Death March and went on to serve in Korea and later in Vietnam. He was lawyer by trade and an English professor as well. Strange how our world changes as a result of world events. I agree totally with your assertion on value, remembrance, and continued learning. How else are we to grow!? 👍🏻

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

your grandad is bad-a*s.

Ern.