Remembrance Sunday

My Grandpa.

He joined the army when he was fifteen, went to war and fought in the trenches.

He was one of the lucky ones and only suffered from shell shock after years of being bombed and shot at.

After a few promotions he returned to civilian life and became the postmaster in Stirling.

He died before I was born and I never knew him.

My Dad joined the army at the end of the second War when he was 16 on National Service and served in Asia. He's still with us and puts us all to shame.

We are proud of them both.
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The photographs(clockwise from top left);

Dad in somewhere hot in a fine pair of shorts; Grandpa in kilt (2nd from right); Grandpa; Grandpa eating digging trenches (far right); Grandpa at soldiers' hospital after war (playing bowls); Grandpa in gopher mode; Grandpa and colleagues eating (4th from right); Dad barechested in football team (2nd from left in 2nd row); Grandpa revisiting trenches after war; Grandpa at the hospital; Grandpa portrait; Grandpa with couple of chicks at the hospital I think; Grandpa and chums still eating (he's the one with the mug).

Seemed to do a lot of eating did my Grandpa.

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PS: This a wee bit weird as I posted this about half past one in the morning on the 8th and all the other posts about the same time were dated Saturday 7th due to the time differences.