Love ya Dad. You Are My Hero
It is now Remembrance Day in Canada and Veterans Day in the USA.
I always think of my father on this day. Dad was a navigator on a Lancaster Bomber.
World War II ended 10 years before I was born. Dad’s family lived through it firsthand. Our generation is so lucky.
Dad and his brother Buddy went to war. Dad came home. Buddy did not. Buddy died on the battlefield.
Nana and Papa must have been going through hell having two boys at war in a faraway place.
We still have the telegram that Nana got from the government saying that Buddy was dead. “Killed in the line of duty,” it said. Every knock at the front door must have scared Nana so much. Poor Nana. She was the one who answered the door that day.
After the War
Once home from the war, Dad went to law school and became a well-respected lawyer in our community. Everyone knew him. Everyone loved him. I was so proud.
When I was very young, Dad coached the legendary Bobby Hull at our local arena in Belleville, Ontario, Canada. Dad lured Bobby over from another local team by offering him a pair of brand-new hockey skates. Bobby took the deal and Dad became his coach.
Dad didn’t like talking about the war. He never mentioned a single mission. I never pressed him. I knew the war was a part of his life that he wanted to forget.
Dad died in 1983 at the age of 61. The stresses of fighting in a war take so many years from a person.
