My main blog is still down, I hope to have it back running by next week.
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It’s November 11. I explained this week why we wear poppies to my friend who came from Vietnam. Here are some short stories from WWII:
My one grandfather was a bomber during WWII. He and his crew would take photos out of the bottom of the plane, and since the plane was not designed for this it was very dangerous. Someone held him into the plane as he snapped photos, but one time something happened and he slipped. At the last second he caught himself on the edge of the bomb bay, but injured his stomach. After the war he had to retire to a warmer climate than Toronto, and lived in southern California with his family.
My other grandfather was also injured in the war, before he went overseas. His leg was broken in an accident. In the hospital, to pass the time, soldiers were taught to smoke.