大象传媒

I consider myself extremely fortunate. My father survived the war and lived until he was 80.

However, each November 11th, I have remembered him, even when he was alive, and thanked God that I had a father, when many of my contemporaries had lost theirs.

My father was a Major in the Canadian Army, the Royal Artillery. He was due to be posted to the Far East sometime between 1943 and 1945. My mother was not told where he would be going, but she had to sew cyanide into the hems of his uniform.

Can anyone nowadays imagine what that can have meant to a young wife, with small children? It is totally incomprehensible to us in this day and age.

My father survived the war because of the decision of one man. I wish I knew his name. But it was he, a General, who ridiculed my father鈥檚 posting (to Japan) and said that a man of 6鈥�5鈥� would be a sitting target for the Japanese and he rescinded my father鈥檚 posting.

My father was subsequently posted to London. He died in England in 1985, having enjoyed a life after the war that included two grandsons.

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