Last week started with a long weekend due to Anzac Day. As per our normal traditions we paid of respects at the local family service in town. I was all for going to the Dawn Service this year, but I was out voted 3-1.
The Family Service is really quite lovely. We heard from a Military man with more credentials than I can possibly remember who shared a fun story that the last living Anzac shared before his own death. The short version is that the young man went through a nightmare of battle, escaped alive, was brought back to health, & then captures as a POW. Years later he managed to escape & make it back to home soil & upon arriving in Melbourne had no idea what to do with himself & thus went to the nearest Red Cross tent & upon seeing the nurse said to her, "I was a POW & have just returned." Her reply was, "So, I suppose you'll be wanting a cup of tea then, won't you?" It may be the first year there was a sputter of laughter amongst the snuffle of tears.