When 20-year-olds called embarked in Marseilles bound for Algeria (from 1956), they had no idea what awaited them. At the time, we talked about "events". We don't officially speak of the "Algerian war" until 1999. When, many months later, these soldiers returned on leave, they found that Algeria was far removed from everyday concerns. How disturbing it is to see others partying on Saturday evening when a few days before we were on a peak watching the night for a possible surprise attack by the fellagas! Among the 1.5 million called, the paths are really very diverse. However, this entire age group has been marked by the crucible of this nameless war.
The spirit of this phantom generation, stuck between that of 39-45 and that of May 68, it is precisely to have kept in her (in part) what she had lived. Later, these men did not confide in their loved ones, or else in spite of themselves, in snatches. Were they unknowingly bearers of collective shame? Algeria being independent, it was necessary to turn the page. These fighters were only recognized with embarrassment. Oppressive denial for those who left a vivid part of their youth there. These men preferred to start a family, dedicate themselves to their trade and let themselves be carried away by the consumerist current of society rather than awaken old wounds that they did not know what to do with.
But what's repressed always comes back to haunt you, you, your loved ones or the following generations. For the past to pass, you have to let it come to light, even if it's painful.