One of my readers commented recently on a throwaway remark of mine-  fear of war- and  I began to think about it more deeply. 
And this fear is indeed always at the back of my mind, as is my horror of being in prison. So I began to try and think why these two things are always part of my subconscious and frequently at the front of my consciousness.  
When I was a small child in the early nineteen fifties my family used to frequently talk about the war. In Polish. Wojna. They also talked about the First World War. And about Vienna where my grandmother spent some time. Wiedeń.  And about my grandfather being taken to one of the Soviet places of execution. Prison. Więzienie. And my parents being deported to Siberia. Wywiezienie. All these words were mixed up for years in my childish -and not so childish- mind and engendered a neverending fear, foreboding, general discomfort. 
Then there was the Cold War which did nothing to allay my dread. Then in 1968 there were revolutions all over Europe – I was with my father in Yugoslavia when Prague was invaded. He talked of coming back to London and buying a spade to dig trenches with. That did nothing for my confidence.  
And then various wars and skirmishes round the world. Vietnam. And of course most recently the horrific and far too near to home invasion of Ukraine. 
I find all this international conflict hard to cope with. 
I volunteer in the archives of the Polish Underground Movement Study Trust.  I read about the day to day  bravery of the doomed citizens of Warsaw during the Warsaw Uprising and am  constantly filled with awe and admiration at their day to day courage.  I am not a brave person by any stretch of the imagination. 
So my terror of the future is now only allayed by my love for my grandson, who I passionately hope will live in a better world.