On this day I remember my father amongst all the others. He did not fall in the war, but many of his dreams and expectations surely did. The war changed his life in such profound ways which I am only beginning to comprehend.
He was younger than my own child when he fought. This is unfathomable to me. The lives of his children, which to me growing up felt unbearably harsh, must have seemed to him so very privileged. His war diary, which was unearthed after my mother's death, gave shocking glimpses into some of the horrors that he witnessed, that must have shaped him, in a war of which he rarely spoke.