He was with the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry.
He was very brave (like so many) and only 18.
He was wounded on August 14th by a sniper...I cannot even begin to imagine how scary it was over there.
He was taken by jeep over a minefield and to a hospital plane.
He recovered in hospital until December.
His war continued in Palestine when he was better.
He died when I was 11 aged only 56...that was in 1982...I think about him all the time, but especially grateful to him today. I am lucky that he wasn't killed (like so many) because I wouldn't be here today.
Today is a special day for so many, but each and every one of us enjoy our freedom because of those extremely brave people. My grandad was part of that and I say thank you and will never forget it.
Please feel free to share your family memories in the comments.
Daisy and I watched the coverage yesterday and will again today. I will tell her about her amazing Great Great Grampy and what was done for us to keep our freedom.