Memories of war

I went to a hugely interesting literature festival event this afternoon. Part of me wasn't sure if I wanted to go and perhaps it was too worthy a talk for a Sunday afternoon, but my curiosity was such that I HAD to go. There were only a smattering of people there - about 30 or so - and we sat and listened and wondered while Victor Gregg told us about his experiences of World War II and a little of his time from after the war (equally amazing). The experiences he described were incredible - horrendous in the most part, but with some dark humour in between. He enrolled in the army for a cup of tea and a biscuit, but he didn't see either.

I haven't read his book, but I will do so soon. I found a clip of him on YouTube talking about the Battle of Arnhem and the bombing of Dresden. My grandad was one of the Dresden bombers - he never spoke about it, ever. I'm glad I went to see Victor. We owe him and his generation endless thanks: Victor Gregg, rifleman

The blip is from a war memorial I saw on the way home from the talk. It shows bombs raining down on London.