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My grandfather was a soldier in World War 2. He was a desert rat with the 8th Army in North Africa and then a Chindit behind Japanese lines in Burma. He was wounded in Africa and was also mentioned in dispatches whilst there. After the war he came home and never wore his medals and threw all his war photos. He said he’d lost too many friends and wanted nothing to do with it. He would sometimes mention a few things — mainly more light-hearted episodes. He would wear his oak leaf with pride though. I wish he’d lived until I was old enough to fully understand and I would have approached him about his experiences, but he died when I was about 20 years old.

Wilf Griffin
Somerset

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