Father's Day

As it is Father's Day and D and Alf are still in Le Mans, Poppy and I went to my parents for dinner.
It was a lovely evening; less noisy and hectic with only the 4 of us. We actually had a chance to chat ad relax. The photo is of my dad holding a picture of his own father. I asked my dad to tell me about my grandad's experiences of the war and I wrote down his memories:
'My father was born in Cambridge in 1919, one of 11 children.
In 1942, At the age of 23 he was called up and went into the 2nd Cambridge Regiment. He trained in Reading and then was shipped out to the Far East with the intention of joining the allies to save Singapore from the Japanese. Singapore was so poorly defended that the Japanese took control and put all of the allied soldiers in prisoner of war camps. Dad was taken to Changi and put to work on the Burma /Thailand railway. As the railway progressed, the prisoners were moved up country and he found himself in camps in Nongpladuk and Kanchanaburi where there is still a huge allied soldiers graveyard.
It is common knowledge that conditions in these camps were horrific. Illnesses such as beri beri, malaria and dysentery were rife. Dad was ill with all of these and suffered recurring bouts of malaria in later years. The prisoners were beaten, starved and tortured. Red cross parcels and medical treatment were withheld. Soldiers had to resort to eating snakes and lizards to survive.
The POW camps were liberated by the American in August 1945. The soldiers were taken the long way home by boat in order to try and fatten them up before bringing them home. They arrived back in Cambridge in cattle trucks to no welcoming party (little wonder they were referred to as The Forgotten Army). Dad arrived home in late 1942 to find his mother had died during his absence.
Dad was reluctant to talk about his experiences during the war. There is no doubt that his experiences took a huge toll on his health and he died in 1987 from lung and chest disorders aged 67.'