25/04/2026
“The Man Before the War”
If I had known my grandfather�before the war!
would I recognise him?
Not the quiet man.�Not the distance in his eyes.�Not the silences that filled a room.
But the man before.
The one who laughed without measure.�The one who stood without weight�on his shoulders.
The one who did not carry�the dead with him.
Because war does not end�when the guns fall silent.
It follows them home.
It settles in their bones,�in their voices,�in the way they look at the world�and no longer trust it.
It changes them—�not just in body,�but in what they allow themselves to feel.
And so it changes us.
The children who never knew�the men they could have been.
The families built�on what was left behind.
We inherited the quiet.�We inherited the distance.�We inherited a version of them�shaped by something�they did not choose.
And still—�we are told it was necessary.
That it was duty.�That it was honour.
But I ask—
who decided?
Who sent them forward?
Who called it strategy�from somewhere far enough away�not to hear the cost?
Because the ones who carry it�are rarely the ones who choose it.
Orders are given.�Names are written.�Bodies are counted.
And what remains�is carried home.
And the ones who return—
they are not the same.
Or they do not return at all.
So I ask again—
if I had known my grandfather�before the war,
would my life be different?
Would his?
Or is this the legacy�war leaves behind—
not glory,�not honour,�not peace,
but silence�passed down�through generations
by men�who never truly came home.
By:Tracy Lynch
In loving and with thanks to Des lobb memories❤️❤️
