80 years on. ……

….. and what have we learnt?

There was a programme on the BBC a couple of nights ago - VJ Day 80: We were there.  I started to watch it because my Dad was there.  But I had to turn it off after a few minutes.  I was beyond anger and grief at the suffering that people went through.  Particularly as we are seeing similar every night on our TV screens.

My Dad was relatively lucky - in the RAF, building radar stations in Burma and India, he was never captured.  His luck ran out, though when he got home.

He died - eventually - of a cruel wasting disease when I was a young man.  We often argued. Like many teenagers I thought I knew it all, but in truth knew nothing.

I found out not so long ago that my bandmate Neil’s Dad was also in the RAF in India and Burma.  They were both musicians in their spare time.  

As I write this a thought strikes me.  What if  …….. my musical partnership with Neil had its genesis some 80-odd years ago in the jungles of the Far East …… now that would be really something to write home about.
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