My father was a sniper (Canadian Armed Forces) in World War 2.
He was 16 years old when he went off to fight the Germans.
He came back from the war a very damaged young man, with two bullet hole scars in his back.
He was shot on two different occasions, patched up, and sent back to fight some more.
He never talked about his experiences, about the friends he lost, about the horrors he witnessed.
He took them all to the grave with him.
My point is that we all need to be grateful to the generation that sacrificed so much.
That never asked for a pat on the back.
That never burdened us with their nightmares and horrific memories.
That paved the way for us all to have a wonderful carefree life filled with freedom and enjoyment.
Guy Rutledge, Vernon