Near my home here in central Germany is a big forest or woods, in fact The Woods of
Grimm's fairytales as I share the same hometown as the Brothers Grimm. As you walk
through this legendary forest you may notice many large holes in the ground, some as
large and deep as swimming pools, others much smaller. In Spring they are often filled
with rainwater, in Summer they are mostly dry and covered with the lush green of the
forest undergrowth. In Autumn they are containers for the seemingly endless fall of
leaves from the forest canopy, and then the Winter snow puts a white blanket over them.

On the 19th of March, 1945 at 4.20am, the final and largest attack by Allied forces
took place here and, without warning and in less than half an hour, the entire city of
Hanau and its surrounding areas, were destroyed. Thousands of lives were lost. These
holes are actually bomb craters, still there more than 60 years after the end of the
Second World War. Like scars on living flesh, which remain from wounds long healed
over, they are the reminders of a tragic and dark history which maintains its power to
shock and distress. It seems the scars of this war may not disappear, for those involved
on either side of the conflict, for yet more generations to come. Even as, year after year,
more dirt and debris falls into these craters, their enormity seems not to change and
while to those who don't know better they appear to be a gentle even natural part of the
environment, to those in the know their capacity to confront does not diminish.

This series is a record of the scars over the period of one year.