Yesterday I had an interesting experience, I went to a funeral that was almost too good to miss. While that sentiment might strike you as very strange it is, nonetheless, true. I'd never met the fellow who died but I've hunted deer with his eldest son. Terry (his son) and Janice (his daughter-in-law) gave my wife and I a very generous wedding gift and I thought it my duty to attend the funeral. Little did I know that it was actually my privilege to attend the funeral.
First Special Service Force. The brother was wounded in action in Italy and returned home due to the loss of one eye.
Terry's father flew a Halifax Bomber. The minister related the details of one mission where Terry's father lost two engines on one side due to enemy fire and managed to get the plane back to their base in England. She also related the fact that Terry's father was trained to be a fighter pilot but volunteered for a bomber position at a time when they "... were losing bomber pilots left right and centre".
In all Terry's father flew 32 missions and for that accomplishment he received the Distinguished Flying Cross.
While Terry's father's passing may be regrettable I'm glad to have been privileged to have been at a World War II veteran's funeral and to hear a eulogy that was brimming over with life.
One final note, Terry's father was buried in his RCAF uniform which fit him well 64 years later.