Nanjing Massacre Case Study
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When I did not come to this city of Nanjing, I always hoped that I could have a chance to visit the memorial hall of the victims of the Nanjing massacre. And when I came to the city of Nanjing, I didnt go there immediately, because I felt a glimmer of fear. I didnt know if I really had the courage to face this painful history.
Finally, in a holiday where a roommate was absent, I set the destination of that day in the memorial hall of the victims of the Nanjing massacre. After leaving the subway station, the rainy days began to rain, and suddenly everything was dragged back to the cruel and heavy day. Perhaps because of the holidays, many people came to visit, mostly 32 pairs, outside the fence, and some people selling chrysanthemums to tourists. I moved slowly along with the flow of people, looking at the statues that portrayed the massacre and hopelessness to the people. This may be the moment of being fixed, and the people who came to visit seemed to be pressed into the silent key, and all the laughter disappeared between the sculptures. Then, there was an empty land filled with stone. There was a team of old men in the air. They looked up at the big clock ahead and listened to the leaders explanation. Perhaps in their ears, these were not strange history, but nightmare.
Before I came to visit, I asked a person who had come before: “is it difficult to face inside?” She replied, “no, its not a bloody feeling, its another feeling, not the kind that directly strikes you.” When I walked into the historical museum, I understood what she meant. The historical evidence on display in the museum is not all bloody and direct pictures and objects, but the breath of each item is more profound than the blood. No matter the reports of the victims of the time, the records of the inhumane killing of the games, or the memories of the survivors, they could not show the horns of the ice. The lighting arrangement in the historical museum is not dim, but it makes me feel that there is a grey haze in front of me. I think this is probably the dark color of history. I think the “other feeling” that the former classmates have said is probably the kind of feeling of empathy that is seen as a compatriot after the dislike of death and hatred of evil. When the massacre is no longer an event in history, it becomes a feeling of unfolding, so we really feel the cold and pain of the bone marrow. As I walked through the bones of the victims of the victims, a picture of their life was hanging above them. They were like us, a fresh young man, and perhaps they had their own unique stories and past, but the unspoken words were buried forever by the loess, and the fire was swept away by the fire. . As I walked through the walls engraved with their names, the masters of the names may have never imagined that they would be known in such a way that the ordinary people formed a history that China would never forget. In addition to the desolation given by ethnic blood, I do feel the same sadness as an ordinary person who sympathize with another group of unfortunate ordinary people.
But history is not an eternal night. There is still the dawn of human nature in despair. History is not just about massacre, but also those