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They endured three years' worth of indescribable horror, of things never seen before in warfare. Trenches, gas, rapid-fire machine guns. Seeing those cemeteries and crosses in Flanders is enough to make grown men cry. No wonder Remembrance Sunday is such a sacred holiday in the UK.

I've always thought that Brits and Aussies make the best allies. Here is an anecdote from my Dad, one of the few times he would describe things to me as a youngster. He went ashore on D-Day at Utah Beach and after a couple of days they made their way inland and began encountering a lot of the gliders that went in prior to the troop landings. A lot were wrecked with no survivors, but a patrol from my father's company encountered one where a single survivor was found, broken arm, still hanging from his safety straps, which he could not release because of his arm. He'd been like that for going on three days. It was a British crew and they brought the wounded man back to American lines and after receiving first aid the only thing the guy wanted to do was rejoin his buddies and give the Germans hell. The American medics sent him back with instructions not to let him back into combat until the arm was fully healed. That story made it into the army newspapers and the headline was: "Limeys Are Tough!" I'd have to agree.

I was very interested in your account. Also of your Dad at Utah Beach on D-Day. I know that somebody had the idea of gliders with troops in them. They were to land well ahead of the beach head troops, behind the enemy. The idea was to confuse the enemy, who would not know where the attacks were coming from. I understand it was a disaster for them. At least that is what I read somewhere.

My Dad got the Distinguished Conduct Medal in May 1940 at the Dendre Canal in Belgium. He was Platoon Sgt. Major with 15 men. Tried to hamper a small group of Rommel's Panzers and the following German infantry. Got off at Dunkirk ok. Two grandfathers in WW1 in France. One an infantryman, the other a medic. Both survived.