Remembrance Day

My family war a resistance group during WW2.
One of the men/uncles, a priest, was betrayed, interrogated by the Nazi's (He didn't say a word) and shot in 1942.

The young men were taken away from their families for the Arbeitseisatz, to work in Germany for the warindustry.

My father was 16, one of the most active members of the group, and there were warnings they wanted to capture him.

Without telling the family he went away.
They didn't know what happened, so they couldn't tell the Nazi's anything.

He went to England and made the choice to join the RAF.
He was too young, but he got training and work.

I found his name on one of the desembarkmentlists of the Ministery of Defense of the UK, so knew he landed in Nova Scotia in spring 1943. He got part of his training in Canada.

When he was old enough he formally joined the RAF.

25 years after the war dad and I went to England to visit one of the families he stayed with during the war. (In Wolverhampton)
His friend Ron, also a former RAF man, drove us around in England, Wales and Scotland.

It created a intense longing to stay there. Later I learned that my ancestors came from Scotland!

Because of financial reasons I was never able to return, before 50 years later...

Now I go each year for Remembrance Day to London, to pay my respect for Dad, Ron, Dad's army chaplain (who lived near us and visited my parents and later us each week) and their colleagues.

Life pushed me towards veteran pychological care in England, which brings me several times a year to England.

Danke Martine.