Bush is over in Russia right now, celebrating Victory Day. They cleared the Muscovites out of Red Square for it, to welcome all the world leaders in attendance.
Here in Zhytomyr, Victory Day was celebrated as well. Since most of the Eastern Front actually raged across what is now Ukraine, I think it's just as heartfelt a celebration here, if not more so.
The parade, led by a tank, left Victory Square and marched a mile uphill to the World War II memorial, a monolith with an eternal flame at its base. Ukranians don't do parades quite like we do. It wasn't a bunch of people on sidewalks watching others march past. Rather, we all walked together, a huge chunk of the city's population flowing up to the memorial, a river of people. It was fitting. After all, it was all of Ukraine that banded together to fight Nazi invaders, all of Ukraine that was decimated as the Nazis moved past into Russia.
Diana and I walked in the parade together, as friends. Most of the Zhytomyr crew were playing baseball in Khirovograd, taking advantage of the three day weekend. As getting off a plane and onto a bus the next morning didn't sit with me, I stayed and got to see the parade. It was slightly sad for Diana. Her grandfather, a war hero, had taken her and her alone with him each victory day. Since she was ten, she walked this road with him. His health is low, though, and he didn't feel he could make the walk this year. This was the first time in a decade she's gone without him.
We walked up to the memorial, all of us. Various groups carried flags. Soldiers marched in formation amidst the throng. Here and there, but noticeably few, were old men in green uniforms, chests heavy with medals. They were whom the day was for, a rememberance for their bravery. Like our own veterans, they, too, are dying one by one.
At the memorial, speeches were given in both Russian and Ukranian. Of the one million Ukrainians who fought, said one speech giver, one third were killed or wounded. He said this under a sky heavy with dark clouds, the mood fitting. Sad music played while a woman dressed in black, "representing a mourning mother," said Diana, laid flowers in front of the memorial. Teenage girls in white danced, and then released doves into the air, followed by soldiers firing a five shot fussilade.
As the rain came down, heavy, people moved slowly under umbrellas to lay stacks of flowers in front of the memorial, to all those who sacrificed so that Ukraine could remain free. Ironic that what they fought for was a Stalinist Russia.
But still, Ukraine is free today, as free as it can be, as free as it's trying to be. And it's because others went to the grave to give it the chance. And Ukraine, like most of the Slavic world, takes today to remember it.
It was very moving.