You're very welcome...and I'm grateful.

BTW, Jafo has PMs.

That was so nice doc thank you, Lest We Forget. My dad was a cook in the air force, and one of my brothers went to veitnam thankfully they came home my mum lost a brother in the 1914/ 1918 war. The sacrifice these men and woman made I can't comprehend it's huge back then and also today thank you

It's not totally 'on topic' but near enough.

It's a poem...[that I'll be reading at my mum's funeral on monday] written by her friend....to her on her 25th birthday....that'd make it March 8, 1945.

"When I heard the Mavis singing,

His love song to the Morn,

I thought of t'other Mavis,

And the day that she was born.

'Tis five and twenty years ago,

Since first she saw the light,

Now she's wearing women's Army garb,

And joining in the fight.

If she throws into the effort,

Half the weight she put on keys,

Of the S.E.C. typewriters,

She'll bring Tojo to his knees.

No matter where your path may lie,

Your pals would like to say,

They wish you "Many Happies",

On this your natal day.

And when the war is over,

[You can take this tip from me],

We'll be jolly glad to see you,

In your place at morning tea."

I love personalised poetry like that.. it means so much to the recipient and tells a lot of the regard in which they were held... 

the author, I'm sure, would be very honoured that it had survived all this time to eventually be read on such an important day celebrating her life.

Thanks for sharing it...

What a sad week it's been...  doubley sad...

The scotch bottle always goes down a way in my Mum's house on ANZAC Day... the incredible memories it evokes... bravery... sadness... humour...

I love the story that when the Turks wanted to know if the Australians were asleep... they'd put a cap on the end of a bayonnet and raise it.... if it got shot at, the Australians were awake... if it didn't... the Australians were asleep..    ... there was a kind of honour and respect in that war, that we'll never see the likes of again....  they would throw over a scarf tied up containing packets of cigarettes to the Aussies with a note... do you have any spare milk you could return... 

It's no wonder there is such a close camaraderie between the diggers... the thousands of stories and experiences they must have to share.... 

My Mum has watched the march over the years seeing dwindling numbers of the people she shared such an imporant part of her life with....

We saw Harry Walker carrying the Beaufighter Squadron flag this year for his grandfather.... Black Jack Walker... an old mate of hers from early RAAF days... I think it's great the children and grandchildren carry on marching with the medals in their honour... I've no idea why some people see it as inappropriate... to me it keeps the memories alive and honours them, keeping them a part of the March...

Our Mums have reached a grand age to be able to reflect on all the changes in the world they have experienced first hand...  I have many such discussions with my Mum on this as I'm sure you have had....

As a new officer's wife down at Pt Cook RAAF base in 1935... the many times the saucepan's contents would boil over on the fuel stove when she ran out to watch the guys doing aerobatics over the base....  in Tiger Moths....     The day they took her up in an Avro trainer to do aerobatics, the gleeful cadets lined up to see how green around the gills she'd be when they landed.... only to be disappointed as she strode confidently past them and managed to wait till she got back to the house before she hurled...    ....to only a few weeks ago when she sat on her deck and watched two A380's fly up Sydney Harbour in formation... and F/A-18 Hornets do the flypast.....   two different worlds...

Through all the trauma and sadness of war... there are always some stories of humour that emerge... I love hearing these...

One small example is when her husband was flying bombing raids from Labuan to Timor in a Beaufort Bomber... one trip... the extra fuel tank line had been cut... presumed sabotage...

it was pretty dire trying to make the return trip.... they had to throw everything out of the plane that could be ripped out and turfed to lighten the load and stretch the fuel... they cruised in on fumes and landed on the smell of an oily rag....  he reported what had happened and upon his return on leave... the official RAAF artist turned up at his house with a large watercolour painting of him midair, lightening the load...  priceless...    ... though a bit blurred as photo taken through non reflective glass...       

She drove from Adelaide with her family in their Rolls Royce to settle in Sydney, before the Harbour Bridge's spans had closed... and recently witnessed the celebration of the 80th birthday of the Harbour Bridge...

The Rolls mid trip...wouldn't I love to have that now...

She recalls her first radiogram.... a huge heavy wood piece of furniture that had a radio and a record player... as I show her my iPod Nano... the size of a postage stamp, that plays and stores... thousands of songs...      and the comparisons and observations go on....as I'm sure your Mum has had too..

In a world where many don't get the chance to grow up... where illness and tragedy strikes prematurely... they have had very priviliged lives when you sit and think about it... 

will be thinking of you on Monday...