Today is Remembrance Sunday. Since I was about 30 I have had ownership of my Uncle Freddie's medals - although I never met him. Along with many others that day and thousands during the whole war, he was lost at sea when the merchant ship he was sailing in was torpedoed off the coast of Ireland. He was 18 years old. Apparently my Nin didn't speak (no doubt due to shock) for a couple of years. We were close, especially after the early death of my mum (her daughter) but she never discussed this with me, my information coming from other family members.
Freddie was a bit of a character. He kept pigeons and had been known to sleep with them if he was really fed up about something. This was probably the case when Nin told him she had been forced to kill one of his rabbits to feed all the other children. So many of our grandparents lived through incredibly hard times.
Doing this blog was something that came to mind about half an hour ago and is a story I know well but still, as I write it my eyes are filling up.
Today, please remember those who died (and those who still die) so that we can live in a free and democratic society and let's try to make them proud. Never take this for granted. Thank you Uncle Freddie.
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