Looking Back

I have been thinking of the past recently. Over 75 years much has happened. The things that make an impression are not always the most important. I decided to write some of these memories so they are not lost forever.
My mother's family was large (10 children). My father's was smaller (4). All of the male members were drafted during the Second World War.
Uncle John flew the hump in India to Burma.
Uncle Leo survived hand to hand combat in a trench in Europe.
My Dad spent several weeks in the swamps of New Guinea, living on Hersey bars and bananas.
Back home : the family would gather and pray for 30 minutes or so every evening.
All of the men came home. Some were permanently changed by the experience. But they all came home.
I have a vivid memory of V E Day., standing on the curb while a parade went by. I was beating on one of my grandmother's pots with a wooden spoon. There was universal joy in the crowd.
The returning relatives never said much about their experiences. I pieced their stories together over the years from others in the family.