Remembrance Sunday

When I was 18 years old I was told something by my mother which changed the way I look at war.

My mother was born in Hamburg, Germany is October 1946.  Her mother was German, most of her uncles had been fighting with the Nazi's.  Her father was a British serviceman.  When his term in Germany ended he went back to England leaving his pregnant girlfriend behind.  We have a photograph of this serviceman, it is a family photo, he was obviously well accepted attending the engagements of one of my mums aunts.  He never made contact again.

My poor mum was born and then had a very tragic childhood, suffering the death of her own mother at the age of six, child abuse by step fathers (one of whom was put in prison), and then being adopted by a young aunt with no experience of children whose husband went on to abuse my mother until she left home to get married at 18 years old.

So Remembrance Sunday is not a day that I feel I can focus purely on the soldiers who 'liberated' us.  I have to remember the fallout that occurred to 'normal' citizens in 'normal' families like my own in England, Germany and many other countries.  Lives turned upside down and ripped apart because of War.