As Parabola states, yesterday in the United Kingdom was Remembrance Sunday and Wednesday will be Remembrance Day. We have no Veterans Day, as such. I like to think they all get combined as one.
I did 12 years service as an infantry officer in the Regular Army, including five tours of Northern Ireland. We lost comrades and I remember them at this time of year. I also recall the good times and good friends and many good mates, some of whom are still alive and with whom I meet up when we can, spread around the world now, but drawn together by that thread of shared hardship and common experiences: Arctic warfare, jungle warfare, counter terrorism, armoured warfare on the north German plains, home defence, all mixed in with doing duty as binmen and firemen when they were on strike, for much higher wages than we were on, at the government's bidding.
Also remembered are those of my family who served and survived, my father, my two grandfathers, my uncles and the one who did not return, Great Uncle James, killed in France in 1917. And then there was the master at school who taught me French. He had married a French lady before the start of WW II. They had a daughter. He joined SOE in its early days. Eventually he was captured and tortured by the Gestapo. When they could not extract the information they wanted from him, they killed his family. He survived and ended up teaching French to us and visiting his in-laws back in France during each summer holidays. A brave man carrying a heavy burden and a sixty a day cigarette habit. A very good and patient teacher.
Tim
