beyondBeijing2008.com

LONDON – Remembrance Day has always been a special part of my life. As a kid, my home in the North of England was full of talk about the wars. 

My parents had lived, struggled – and danced – through World War II. My nimble-footed dad was the “Master of Ceremonies” at his munitions factory weekly “socials,” and whisked his soon-to-be-bride (my mum) off her feet there.

My uncle had fought the Japanese in Burma, and looked thin and gaunt the rest of his days. That may have been jungle warfare, or marrying my mum’s bad-tempered sister. Either way, it was a battle.

But my grandfather could beat them all, by fighting in what was once called the Great War – ironically, “the war to end wars” – World War I.

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