Today when I switched on the radio I found myself listening to the Remembrance Day service.
I like to listen and remember the sacrifice of those brave people who gave their lives for our freedom.
Today though, I found myself musing on my Father and my Grandfathers. They all survived the wars they fought in. My Father and my Grandfather, on my Mother's side, both fought in WW2 and my Father's Father served in WW1.
None of those men survived unscathed, my Father was blown up during the war and suffered for his whole life with what, I suspect, would now have been diagnosed as PTSD, as for my Grandfathers I cannot comment as I have no direct experience but I suspect that the legacies they received from their experiences were no less traumatic.
I grew up experiencing the after effects of my Father's experiences, the same effects that a whole generation, a whole two generations if you include the children of those who fought in WW1 grew up in the shadow of. I would imagine that children of servicemen and women who see active duty now still grow up feeling those same after effects.
On this day of remembrance I think is is important not only to remember those who gave their lives for us, but also those who fought and returned alive but not necessarily intact.