A day to remember them.

I decided today, on Remembrance Sunday, that i would blip the two photos that i have on my sideboard, of my Mother and Father. My father had this photo taken, while serving in the RAF and sent it to my mother. My mothers photo was taken while he was serving in North Africa or possibly Italy. She had it taken by a professional photographer, and the inscription she wrote in the corner of the photo says, Love from Glenys. Xmas 1944. My father was very proud to have served his country . He served in 38 squadron, and his unit was attached to the 8th army. He was overseas for three years, without leave. When he finally came home, (demobbed) my middle brother, whom he had never seen, was introduced to his daddy, and he replied, that's not my daddy, there's my daddy, pointing to the photograph. My father brought him some sweets, which were obviously rationed , and he didn't know what to do with them. He ate them all, and made himself sick. My older brother showed a bit more restraint. My father said, years later , that it took him a long time to settle down, back in civvy street. Times must have been so hard for them then.