My grandfather served in the Canadian Army in the Second World War and became part of the Special Forces. When he was with them he saw some terrible things. He watched Dieppe from a cliff top, completely unable to save his comnrades. He was part of a small team that blew up a huge ammo dump at St. Nazaire. He once mouthed off to Patton. He even once met Intrepid (it was his job to collect intel from him).
He was retuned to his usual unit just before D-day and he commanded a tank on Juno beach. He later helped to liberate Holland.
I have come to appreciate war for what it really is to the best that an unexperienced person can because of him and the stories he tells me. No book can really impart the true emotion that I can feel in his voice every time he tells me a story of some kid that didn't make it. In his own words "The real shame of it all was the beautiful young men that never came home, that never got to live."
He remembers names, places, how people died, and all the silly **** that they did together. The happy stories and the sad stories really make me appreciate the human cost of a war. When he dies I want to make sure that his experience and his wisdom aren't lost. Like they say.
Lest We Forget
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