O Sceptic Nag

Last year, on the 45th Remembrance Day of Operation Sceptic, I had the honour of standing on the very ground where this battle was fought. More importantly, I shared that moment with a number of the men who had lived through those events and carried the memories of that day with them for forty-five years. Respect was paid to all who fell during the battle—friend and foe alike. In death, the politics and uniforms of war fade away, leaving only the reality that brave men lost their lives. For me, however, the greatest honour was being there with my brother, Torur. Forty-five years earlier, on that very day, he had lost half of his platoon. Returning to that battlefield was not easy for him, and it was not easy for those of us who witnessed his pain. The years may pass, but some wounds never fully heal. I know that the pain of such loss never truly disappears. It becomes part of those who survive. Yet, standing there once more, among old comrades and friends, something changed. Perhaps not all of the pain, but a small part of it was left behind on that battlefield. I believe everyone who made that journey would agree that something was lifted from their shoulders that day. Old bonds were renewed, new bonds were formed, and together they carried a measure of healing. War always leaves scars. Some are visible, while others are carried silently for a lifetime. The men who fought there know this better than most. To honour those memories, and inspired by the poetry of Dawid Lotter (RIP), I used elements of his work to help create this song. It is a tribute not only to the battle itself, but to the men who fought, the men who fell, and the men who continue to carry those memories with them. Moments such as these should never be forgotten. Neither should the sacrifices of all who fell on that day.