Hi there,
Remembrance Day is supposed to be a day we all take a minute's pause to remember all those lost in war.
This, to me, is an extremely valuable time to recall losses and causes of those losses.
My father went to war, in New Guinea but he was fortunate and was mainly used as a radio operator and had no enemy to confront. Still, New Guinea is a dangerous place insect and disease wise and nobody knew if the enemy would invade there or not. So I remember his bravery in going there to support our effort, mainly against the Japanese. He passed away 55 YEARS+ AFTER WW2 ENDED.
My grandfather, my father's father, did get sent to the fields of France for the First World War, a terrible place at that time as they were directly up against the Germans, with inferior weaponry and the worst conditions I can think of, save Gallipolli. They lived in trenches, mainly mud on the bottom and God knows what insects bred there.
The Germans used mustard gas in France and my grandfather was hit with it. He didn't die immediately but was repatriated back home to his family but was bedridden and unable to help himself. He survived for some years until he passed on, leaving a widow with 6 kids to raise with the Great Depression looming. That time was a misery for most, world wide, but for her it must have seemed impossible. She lived into her 80's and she was a placid, kind and gentle woman, always ready to have a bet on the horses. A dollar or two only of course.
We used to read her the form and put her bets on for her late in her life as she had gone blind by then. I loved her very much, and when I thought about what she had been through I felt like crying for her. But no, I couldn't, as she never did, in public at least. God bless her.
I did not go to war but I have a very vivid memory of my two best mates and myself sitting in a North Sydney pub, listening to the list of birthdays which determined who amongst us would be called up to go to war in Vietnam. Two of us were not drawn out but one was.
He did everything he could to make himself unsuitable for duty as a soldier. He did not sleep for a week, no shaving, washing and eating the worst things. He acted as a gay, how he thought a gay person would act, ate soap on the morning of his medical and just hoped they would say he wasn't up for war.
Turns out he had flat feet and was not wanted medically. So despite all his efforts he would never have passed that medical. So the three of us escaped conscription legally and God, were we relieved. Nobody I knew wanted to go but those who were called up mostly did go. And never said a word if they returned, about their experiences.
Oh yes, I remember war(s) and the bravery of those who went or were sent and yes, those who never came home or suffered as my grandfather and his family did. Of course I never met him but wish I had done so. But I was born well after he died.
I remember and hate war and those who create them. But it is the bravery of all involved, including the families I pay tribute to.
Remembrance Day is supposed to be a day we all take a minute's pause to remember all those lost in war.
This, to me, is an extremely valuable time to recall losses and causes of those losses.
My father went to war, in New Guinea but he was fortunate and was mainly used as a radio operator and had no enemy to confront. Still, New Guinea is a dangerous place insect and disease wise and nobody knew if the enemy would invade there or not. So I remember his bravery in going there to support our effort, mainly against the Japanese. He passed away 55 YEARS+ AFTER WW2 ENDED.
My grandfather, my father's father, did get sent to the fields of France for the First World War, a terrible place at that time as they were directly up against the Germans, with inferior weaponry and the worst conditions I can think of, save Gallipolli. They lived in trenches, mainly mud on the bottom and God knows what insects bred there.
The Germans used mustard gas in France and my grandfather was hit with it. He didn't die immediately but was repatriated back home to his family but was bedridden and unable to help himself. He survived for some years until he passed on, leaving a widow with 6 kids to raise with the Great Depression looming. That time was a misery for most, world wide, but for her it must have seemed impossible. She lived into her 80's and she was a placid, kind and gentle woman, always ready to have a bet on the horses. A dollar or two only of course.
We used to read her the form and put her bets on for her late in her life as she had gone blind by then. I loved her very much, and when I thought about what she had been through I felt like crying for her. But no, I couldn't, as she never did, in public at least. God bless her.
I did not go to war but I have a very vivid memory of my two best mates and myself sitting in a North Sydney pub, listening to the list of birthdays which determined who amongst us would be called up to go to war in Vietnam. Two of us were not drawn out but one was.
He did everything he could to make himself unsuitable for duty as a soldier. He did not sleep for a week, no shaving, washing and eating the worst things. He acted as a gay, how he thought a gay person would act, ate soap on the morning of his medical and just hoped they would say he wasn't up for war.
Turns out he had flat feet and was not wanted medically. So despite all his efforts he would never have passed that medical. So the three of us escaped conscription legally and God, were we relieved. Nobody I knew wanted to go but those who were called up mostly did go. And never said a word if they returned, about their experiences.
Oh yes, I remember war(s) and the bravery of those who went or were sent and yes, those who never came home or suffered as my grandfather and his family did. Of course I never met him but wish I had done so. But I was born well after he died.
I remember and hate war and those who create them. But it is the bravery of all involved, including the families I pay tribute to.
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