As a young boy living in England, I was ignorant of the enormous struggle and sacrifices going on in the Second World War — in this case, I suppose ignorance was bliss.
I remember watching V1 and V2 bombs flying overhead, one bomb falling not more than 45 metres away from me. I remember the ensuing terror, the sleepless nights as our fighters fought overhead to protect our skies, and then picking up next morning the shrapnel pieces, the remnants of shells from those fights.
We young boys thought it was part of a big game and were grateful that good old Uncle Sam and Uncle Joe (Stalin) were on our side.
It was years later that I learned of the extreme danger the Allied powers faced against the Axis powers on the beaches of Normandy to protect and defend the British Isles as well as our freedom and democracy, which we sometimes take for granted.
What heroes we had, what sacrifices were made, what honour was shown on the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944. They shall not — must not — ever be forgotten.
Yet when we think of what has gone on in the world since, and what is still going on, we have to ask: Have we truly remembered? If we did, surely we would not repeat.