This photograph has always given me the shivers. It is a vision of the apocalypse and loaded with symbolism. The ruins of Stalin's eponymous city burning as his brave new world narrowly escapes extinction at the hands of another madman with an equally twisted vision. Two evil ideologies, that represent the worst extremes of human behaviour, fighting to the death on the Volga like blood crazed dinosaurs. Thousands of lives lost in a struggle that cost millions more and whose consequences we still feel today, Stalingrad, the farthest the tide went out, the real turning point in a war for the soul of mankind. A war not yet won. The statues, that show young Communists with their red Kommosol scarves dancing round a crocodile that could turn and kill anyone of them with a flick of its tail, was surely tempting fate. The reckless, devil may care, look on the face of the girl on the right suggests a foolish belief that there will be no consequences, perhaps that their world view would not be challenged by others with equally extreme ideologies. What would happen if real children, dancing round a crocodile, became exhausted after hours in the hot sun? Which of the children would be the first to falter and lose their footing and which would be the first to feel the snap of the crocodile's jaws? There are clearly not enough children to overcome the crocodile and there are no adults in sight. It is clearly not going to end well as there are going to be lot of dead children and somebody, sooner or later is going to have to kill the crocodile. Stalingrad, where at huge cost in lives and blood, the children of the Soviet revolution gave the crocodile of National Socialism such a bloody nose that it could now only fight its way back to its lair to die an ignoble death. It may be that crocodiles should be left to live out their lives in swamps well away from people that want to live their lives in peace with their neighbours. Dancing with crocodiles never ends well.