From Britain’s highest medieval castle mound the sea of green forest stretched to the horizon. I had followed the Heritage Trail around Thetford and climbed the hill to watch and pray.
The town has an image of being an unlovely London overspill and a centre for European immigrants, but is much more.
To-day, atop the castle mound the Normans built all is peaceful but in the west I could see planes flying in and out of the USAF Mildenhall and I knew soldiers were training on the Battle Area. In Iraq and Afghanistan victims of war still suffer as they had here. As I stood and pondered I saw a patch of woundwort growing at my feet. Was this old stock of some long forgotten herbalist who had used their leaves to heal the wounds of war? The words of hymn informed my prayers. “For the healing of the nations Lord we pray with one accord.”