[260 Rem]

I have told this story before, thought I would share it again on this day of Remembrance. My father was a soldier...a typical farm boy growing up in east-central Alberta, who married just a couple years before he volunteered for military service in 1941. A year after my older brother was born, his trainning took him to "the east," and then to England to prepare for the invsasion. His unit arrived in France and headed for the Dutch Sheldt and Belgium...From where their Bailey bridging equipment was called into service on the failed assault on Arnhem. It was on that leg of his journey, that he and a buddy found themselves trapped behind enemy lines for several days. One of the few things he spoke of was the terror of being surrounded by fire.
Thirty two years after returning from the European theater, he fought his last battle... this one was lung cancer..and he did not survive. The day before he died, I walked into his hospital room where my once "tougher than nails" father pleaded with me to "pull" him away from the fire. He called out his buddy's name when he looked at me..which hurt my feelings...surely, I thought...my Dad would recognize his son....over some long lost war buddy! Those were the last words he spoke.
Not every story profound meaning...but for me... I learned that the closeness of combat forms unforgetable bonds, and terrible memories. May his and the souls of all soldiers ...forever rest in peace.