Today is November 11th, Remembrance Day for those who fought in the First World War, however since last year it means something a lot more personal than I ever wished it to be.
On November 10th 2007, late evening, I can't remember the specific time, my Grandfather died, at the good old age of 91. Now he fought in World War II, but I'll still think of him today more than anyone else. I want to just tell people about him for the moment, not for sympathy or to be boastful, this isn't about me, and I've had a year to talk about it.
Just to clarify, there is a point here, you'll see at the end.
My Grandfather was born in Wales in 1916, working class family, he was working by the time he was 11. He taught me many things throughout life, the importance of hard work, enjoying the simple pleasures in life, to fix things rather than replace them, god old fashioned advice which will never go away, and is probably more valuable now thanks to the economy, but let's not get into that. He was always friendly and eager to tell stories of his life, often about the work he did both before and after the war, or his school life. Of course, plenty of his stories were about the war.
He was a Desert Rat, not a nice place to be, but he spoke of his adventures there, making jokes to keep the mood up, never getting into the unpleasant stories. He spoke of how he once had to steal a German motorcycle, and having a few scratches after the German just missed two shots on the back of his leg, how he was taken prisoner and put in the back of supply trucks, only to be bombed by the British planes due to them being supply trucks (my other Grandfather was one of the bombers as it turned out, which both of them found funny and always told the story as such). He would also teach me of the vehicles and weapons, I even found out what Bowser got his name from thanks to him.
I once asked him, when I was younger and not all that tactful...8 maybe, if he killed anyone during the war, something I wish I never asked now, and he answered "It wasn't about whether you killed or not, it was simply that you did your part". That left quite a mark on me, and certainly something I'll never forget.
His final lesson to me was one I learned after he died, one of modesty. He never told us about his medals, and never wanted to appear as a hero. We found the report of his service in the army and his conduct was stated as Exemplary. He returned from the war due to illness, only weighing 5 stone, at one point he was thought to be dead. I personally believe he, and many others never wanted to talk about their achievements, as boasting about it would cheapen the success of others, no matter how great or small, they all played their part.
He wasn't exactly a religious man, not as such anyway, he didn't believe in Heaven. He believed that my Mom, her sister, as well as me and my brother and sister, are his spirit continuing, and so long as we're happy, he's happy.
In the last few decades he looked after my Grandmother, who can long longer walk without assistance, he did his best to take care of her, even with his own physical troubles. To me he inspires strength and determination, as well as modesty and respect for others, and is my personal hero.
Now, to repeat, this isn't about me, it's not about sympathy or to boast on family heritage, I don't want praise for something I never did, and I'll never be half the man he was in my eyes.
This thread is about remembering those who had the greatest impact on our lives, I want you to share your thoughts and feelings about those who inspire you personally. It doesn't have to be your grandparents, or even a blood relative, a teacher or best friend perhaps.
With all the problems going on in the world, all the political arguments that have been burning brightly over the Presidential election, we could do with something to connect us rather than divide. Hopefully this will be a start. 
My Grandpa wasn't directly involved in fighting of WWII - as I understand he was an engineer in the RAF. But sometimes he'd go up in the planes and help distribute food parcels.
He was doing this when he got shot down while over India.
Now I never spoke to him personally about this - unfortunately he died in... '02 I think. I was too young to really ask about such things before then. And I never remember him talking about it. I didn't even know he was involved in the war til I was 10 or so. So my understanding is quite sketchy.
But as I understand him and his crew had to travel through the forests and jungles until they found a British Air Base. It was during this time that he got malaria, and as you probably know that doesn't go away. So it would flare up for the rest of his life about once a year or so.
I wonder sometimes how it must feel to be walking through an unknown forest in severe heat, probably with injuries from the crash, not knowing if you'd make it. It's remarkable really. Truely remarkable.
Just shows that it wasn't just those with the guns who were risking their lives.
My other grandparents weren't involved with the armed forces at all - my Grandad worked the milk tankers, which was considered to important of a job to get put in the forces. My Nana and Gran were too young, although my gran lived on a farm and they housed evacuees.
My granddad was stationed in Africa in the British Army during WWII. Shame to say, I don't really remember any of his stories - my brother was much more interested in that sort of thing, I just used to listen quietly in the corner. He died in 2002.
We've nearly lost that generation of people who lived through WWI and those who lived through WWII are dwindling too. There was a good article on the BBC News website about a gentleman who took his two teenage grandsons to Belgium to visit their great-great-grandfather's grave and see for themselves what the trenches would have been like. Apparently they knew next to nothing about it, because it wasn't taught in school. I think that's terrible, but alas it's nothing new. I don't think I got taught anything about WWI in history; our only coverage was war poetry in English Lit (Dulce et decorum est and In Flander's Fields spring to mind, although I've forgotten most of the words).
It took me a while to find, but here's the article:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7720299.stm
DW
My Great Grandfather was a soldier in WWII and my Great Grandmother was a Nurse in WWII. My Great Grandfather in dead from a stroke and my Great Grandmother is slowly losing her mind. I wish I could tell you more... but that's all I know. And that's just what my immediate parents told me. I don't even know my Great Grandfather's name, though I'm beginning to suspect that it was Ugine. And my Great Grandmother's name is Anastasia. Don't know the last names.
I've also had family who were members in the WWI and WWII, but I can't recall most of them because my mum's a geneology buff. But there is one who sticks out in my mind the most, my Great Uncle "Smiler", who defended Darwin from constant Japanese air raids.
Yeah, none of my Grandparents were remotely old enough to serve.One did join the Navy, while the other was a part of the National Guard.
Two of my uncles are in the Guard, and both have served over in Iraq and Afghanistan.
I totally admire our "Greatest Generation" though.
One of my grandparents always said he regretted not being able to fight, as he had been drafted but was deathly ill around that time of his life.
I know the other one flew planes over Germany during WWII doing some scouting/ observational work and then fighting. He always talks about his fellow soldiers rather than boast about himself, though. Also always tells us his best jokes come from visiting all of those other countries during that time.
