Mr. Wilkinson was dressed casually, without a tie, and his nails were manicured.He politely led me into the empty classroom. I saw that all the tables were deliberately moved to one side, and the chairs were arranged in rows in a semicircle around the single seat in the middle, which I thought was specially prepared for me. "Do you feel comfortable with this arrangement?" I nodded and leaned forward on the walking frame, speechless for a while. My throat felt dry, and my sweaty hands were pressed against my side to hide their trembling.I wanted to get out of here, apologize to Mr. Wilkinson, and retreat to a safe home, but I fought the urge.

I have been preparing for this day for weeks. write down notes; Awaken the long-lost memory; Try to organize your scattered thoughts. Now, the moment has finally arrived.I will tell a story that has been buried deep in my heart for nearly sixty years.I pray that I will remain calm when the audience arrives. My invitees talked about the course graciously and seemed oblivious to my embarrassment.I listened absently to what he said, while looking around the classroom in front of me, hoping to find a blackboard, but it didn't work out.My eyes fell on a white board.I took a breath and interrupted Mr. Wilkinson to apologize for not bringing any slides.

Mr. Wilkinson tried to hide his smile as he explained to me that it was an interactive electronic whiteboard. I stared blankly at him skillfully typing on the keyboard. Compared with him, my typing skills are really bad.After a while, the whiteboard started amidst music and colors.Maps, photos combined with video and commentary appeared on the whiteboard, and in a split second I was able to witness the rise of Nazi Germany, Hitler's invasion of Poland, and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor... This is interactive teaching for the twenty-first century, Mr. Wilkin explained to me, with no secret pleasure.He talks about the advantages of using information technology in the classroom as if it were his own great invention.

Not just World War II, he emphasized, any war and conflict I was interested in, from the ancient Mycenaean wars to the Gulf War of twenty years ago, if I named it famous, he could pull up the archives or Web pages, bringing them to life in front of me. I declined his offer and told him that there was only one war for me. His superior smile said it all. I am a late old man, living in the past, unable to recognize more advanced things. And I gradually understood that the purpose of my being invited here is not so much to wake up that period of modern history, but to bid farewell to it.