You may say i'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one, make love not war~John Lennon Westerplatte ❤️

I dedicated this writing to my friend Jola ,She is a Polish girl i met at the Gym ages ago, a beautiful soul , a fighter , a dreamer, hard working girl , kind hearted really brave and one of kind... I love her to the moon and back , I remember the day she forgot her pasport with American Visa, got hold at the border in Canada , oh my dear lord , i was so frightened , the bus driver wanted to leave her , i convinced the other passenger to help and they like Jola , so we waited, finally they released her ... we all so happy , ever since i knew we will be friend forever , this week i have the honour to visit her country again and like i love her, i love her country too ....

This morning, I spent some time visiting Westerplatte, a place rich with history. Here’s the story (borrowed from Wikipedia) that really stuck with me:

On September 1st, 1939, the German battleship Schleswig-Holstein docked in the harbor of Gdansk. It opened fire on the Polish defenders stationed at Westerplatte. Despite being caught off guard, the Polish soldiers bravely fought back. The Germans, taken aback by the unexpected resistance, were forced to retreat.

But the Polish defenders didn’t get a break. Later that same day, the Germans attempted two more assaults, only to be repelled by the small but determined group of soldiers. In retaliation, the Germans bombarded the Polish positions relentlessly with heavy artillery.

The odds were terrifyingly stacked against the Polish troops. A mere 180 men were standing firm against over 3,000 Germans. Despite the overwhelming force, these heroes managed to hold their ground and resist for an astonishing seven days. Their bravery, commitment to their motherland, and unyielding spirit are a testament to their courage and sacrifice

I started my walk and came came across several ruins and bunkers, one was almost untouched.

When I visited Westerplatte, I learned just how remarkable the Polish defense was. There weren’t any large bunkers or tunnels to shield the defenders, which made it even harder for them to hold their ground. What they had were five small concrete outposts—guardhouses, really—hidden in the forest, and a large barracks that had been reinforced with concrete for defense.

These makeshift fortifications, while humble, enabled a small group of 210 Polish soldiers to withstand seven days of relentless attacks from both sea and land. It’s hard to imagine how they managed to hold out for so long under such brutal conditions, with limited resources and no real cover. But their determination and courage were incredible. They fought with everything they had, defending their homeland against overwhelming odds.

I stood on the steps, gazing toward the sea, trying to imagine what it must’ve been like for those courageous soldiers as they braced for the bombardment from enemy battleships. I couldn’t help but cry. People around me probably thought it was odd, but I couldn’t stop the tears. It hurt so much—thinking about all the suffering, the loss, and the hatred that drove those events.

Why was Hitler so cruel? Why did he want so much, and yet, give so little? I found myself wishing I could somehow have a one-on-one conversation with him—ask him why. Why so much hate? Why cause so much pain? What drives someone to be so consumed by it?

Standing there, overwhelmed with emotion, I realized how difficult it is to understand such hate, to comprehend the depths of cruelty that have shaped so many lives. But maybe, in the end, it’s not about understanding the 'why' behind it—it’s about remembering the courage and love that stood in defiance of it.

I walked down the hill towards the sea, bumped to bunkers and memorials walls, i am really sad , i am not a big fans of war , i don‘t use word hate often, i can’t recall ever hated people...

Still in tears, I slowly made my way back to the parking lot, but I couldn’t shake the weight of it all. As I walked, I found myself reaching out, my hand pressed against the wall. It was like I was trying to connect with the past, trying to feel something, anything—something that could bridge the gap between the pain of then and the grief of now.

It felt almost like a desperate need to understand, to honor those who fought, to feel the presence of their bravery. But as I stood there, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never truly know what they went through. Still, in that small act of touching the wall, I felt like I was, in some way, connected to their courage and their sacrifice. And that, in itself, was enough.

I still feel the courage, the love, and the dedication of those who stood there, defending what they believed in. It’s truly mesmerizing to think about how much strength it took for them to endure.

And in this moment, as I reflect on everything, I pray that we never experience war again. I hope we can move beyond violence, beyond hatred. Let’s communicate, let’s talk, let’s respect one another, make friends, and above all, love each other. I know I’m a dreamer, but I don’t think this is impossible. God didn’t create us to hate each other—he created us to care for one another. If we all just took a step back and thought about that, maybe we’d see how much more we’re capable of together.

Westerplatte, Oct 18th 😢😢