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I don't want it to be forgotten. Nor the stories of the people I grew up with. I was born in 1941 and grew up in Portsmouth, Hampshire. I grew up listening to noises in the sky and rushes to shelters. I was not afraid. I was a child. Among the extended family members were soldiers and sailors and airmen and policemen and the people who stayed home and lived and loved and waited for news. They did not all come home. They did not all survive. Growing up where I did I heard all the stories in the post war years.
I retired last year.
Now I have time to write.
Last year I visited Auschwitz. It stayed with me for weeks. It still does.
No, it must neither be forgotten nor sanitised.