War tourism is an unweighted concept, but not unheard. One aspect and one story of it would be told now.
A person, couples, friends, who travel to vital war zones for personal gain. Through the smoke fence, something happens. The travelers just found a parking space, and with their typical walking shoes, they have climbed the green hill.
Binoculars are not required. Just hear the helicopter blades pounding, the Iron Dome leaping into action. Sense what is already here: the winter breeze read sermons. A touching creation of automatization and sacrification;
Some would not return, as those who walked through the 1939 Todesmärsche, we are all familiar with.
And this is logical to those who need to be obliged to the unforgiving one-society laws and strict corporate culture, they are being heard. Local bakeries cannot produce bread. The recipe of freedom went bankrupt. Sacrification, bankruptcy, survival.
