It's the 24th of July, a day after the National Memorial. The first since the 60s, when queen Wilhelmina died - not even queen Juliana was granted the honour of a national memorial.
A few miles away from my house, two planes land at Eindhoven Airport. I sit in the garden and watch these planes, carrying 40 of the 298 victims of a civilian plane that was shot down in an act of war. Among them 194 Dutchmen. Among those Dutchmen are one senator, numerous AIDS researchers, children, artists, volunteers and many other commentable people. Also among them a distant uncle and his family.
The sight of an empty A2, save for the mile long convoy of limousines, each carrying a body... images I hope never to see again.
A continuous mud-slinging contest between the parties at war and the United States - not even trying to act decently over the death of 298 people. There is but talk of securing the crash site - too late, evidence is being tampered with, people's belongings, jewellery, wallets, credit cards, mobile phones have been stolen.
Stay strong, my fellow Dutchmen... don't resort to violence.