大象传媒

This is a story about my father who was stationed out in Burma. Dad would never talk about his experiences as he said they were too painful, but this one I can remember him talking about.

Dad drove a tank transporter. He was a little person, less than 5 feet, and he used to say that the wheels of the transporter were taller than himself.

During a retreat, a pontoon was hastily constructed across the river, and Dad felt that it was not strong enough to take the weight of the transporter. He was told just to drive the transporter across. The result of this was that the transporter sank and Dad lost his sargeant stripes.

He said he spent many a day after that peeling potatoes.

Sheila Gaunt

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