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My old man did the whole WW2 thing, Dunkirk escape then shipped off to Burma for about four years with Viscount Slim’s forgotten army. He didn’t speak a lot about his experiences and certainly didn’t ‘celebrate’ any anniversaries, indeed one of the only times he mentioned the war was to pooh pooh VE Day, saying it meant bugger all to him as the war he was fighting was still raging.
He never wore a poppy, he didn’t really want to commemorate the worst years of his life. My mother reckoned she used to get some stick when working in Curran’s at the time the days after a raid, while others were gloating over dead German airmen who’d been shot down, she’d often say that it was some poor mother’s son.
War is a dreadful business and parading up and down gloating is not for me, a tragedy for the ‘everyday’ person on both sides.
All my opinion mind, an opinion forged by my Mam & Dad.