Why I remember

Everyone has their own reasons for commerating Anzac Day, or to not commerate the day in some cases. I have always attended Anzac Day services - when I was younger it was because I was in the Girls' Brigade group and now because I feel it is important to.

As a child I had no real connection with the veterans I saw each Anzac Day, proudly marching with their medals pinned to their chests. War was not something that was discussed with my Grandpa, and I never got the chance to meet my Grandad.

It was not until I was older and understood what my grandfathers went through in World War Two that I had a personal reason to commerate Anzac Day, and now I do proudly.

So why do I remember?

My Grandpa was a young man when he enlisted with the Royal Navy. He was sent to Canada to train as a fighter pilot, and very nearly qualified. I think it was very fortunate that he didn't - fighter pilots didn't have a good survival rate. So he became an engineer on an Aircraft carrier and spent a lot of the war in the Pacific. He had his 21st birthday while he was overseas, away from his fiancee and away from his family.

My Grandad was enlisted in the British Army. He fought in many of the major battles that the British Army engaged in Africa and Europe. He was one of the last men off the beaches at Dunkirk, he fought at El Alamein and Monte Cassino, eventually ending up in Austria as the war ended. He was captured by German forces twice, away for a total of 7 years. When he left his family his daughters were toddlers of 1 and 3, by the time he returned they were girls of 8 and 10, he had missed their childhood.

My Grandfathers. Both good honourable men who fought for their country.

They are why I remember.