Why does the 2nd world war still haunt us Europeans? And why do families fight?

It ended over 60 years ago and yet it pervades so much of European consciousness. The Second World War was heinous in extremes; whether thinking about the sheer number of dead on both sides, the genocide that took place (the effects of which we're still feeling in the Middle East today) or the ultimate triumph of freedom over fascism, the war was record-breaking in so many ways.

And yet, we persist to label the Germans, sympathise with the Jews to the neglect of all other concentration camp suffers and pat ourselves on the back as victors who would never have stooped so low. Never, would we have treated our fellow man in such a despicable way; and yet history is littered with examples of men being callous to his neighbour in every part of the world: Indian Partition, Rwanda, Bosnia...

The deaths, the senseless deaths of the holocaust and the others who died alongside the Jews: the Catholics, the political prisoners, the gays, the gypsies, the mixed races; it brings me to choking point, and I wasn't even alive when it all happened. One could be sucked, so easily, into a downward spiral of pessimistic pandering. But the strong amongst us will see the good in people; the beauty that surrounds us; the joy we can give to each other. Without this we're doomed.

Just as those thousands and hundreds of thousands of Jews who dug their own graves were doomed; only to be shot in the head by with a Nazi bullet.

We are better than that; we're stronger than they.

And to make it personal; my own family is rent apart because of a stupid puerile disagreement that could have been so easily averted. We must find it in ourselves to forgive our trespassers, for if we don't we're condemned to a life of hatred and loathing that will consume our very being: look at amazing South Africa and the reconciliation the managed to achieve! We can do it. We can move on.

As the tears stream down my face, I lament a family once in love with each other and now one that is riven apart by misunderstanding, pride and baseless prejudice.

The war of the worlds is often played out in the parlours of families.

Let's hope the butler soon arrives and asks us for our choice of sherry to sweep away the lacrimosa effect of my rantings and we shall, in typical English style, sweep our anxieties under the proverbial carpet and get on with life...!