When I was younger, about ten years old, I was curious about my dad’s part in the second world war. He was a paratrooper. Part of the D Day landings, he also went through Italy to play his part to help win the war.
He spoke of a little church, which was in the middle of England and Germany fighting. Located somewhere in Italy. I’m not sure whether the church was bombed, but Dad spoke of the dilemma they faced because some of the German army were based there.
It was the only way they could get through the border and move further into occupied territory. I asked way too many questions – Being a child I was curious, but I understand now, how it must have affected Dad. Especially during Remembrance week. He never forgot his friends, never forgot the lives lost on both sides.
He never forgot that little church.