tinyE: its starting to make sense now
HeathGCF: When I think of heroes, I can't help but think of relatives and their experiences in WWI and WWII. They weren't professional or career soldiers, but normal people who signed up to 'do their bit' for their country.
My great uncle, who survived the horrors of the trenches and the Battle of the Somme, and was the only young man in his street that returned from WWI, then lived to the ripe old age of 105. Being the only one of his friends that made it back home, he sometimes spoke of a sense of guilt that he'd survived through, in his eyes, little more than pure luck.
My paternal grandfather, a Royal Marine Commando who fought in Burma during WWII, who very rarely spoke about his experiences, the extreme difficulties and hardships, not to mention the terrors of combat itself. His matter of fact recollections of jungle warfare, fixed bayonet 'us or them' encounters, along with the terrible sense of loss he felt both for comrades in arms, and enemies of the same age.
My maternal grandfather who was a Lancaster pilot in the RAF. I still have his log books and diaries, which are fascinating reading, not only for the missions he flew, but also as a remarkable snapshot of thoughts and feelings during the time. He and a co-pilot were both awarded the DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross), for getting a crippled plane with just one remaining engine (of four) back home from a mission, taking it in turns to fly the plane and bandage the rest of the crew using their parachutes. His squadron suffered the highest casualties of any in Bomber Command, due to the high-risk nature of their missions.
Always Heroes,and should always be honored.
