VE Day draws to a close…..

There’s nothing in the way of historic aviation content in this thread but I think it is more appropriate here than in GD. Moderators please feel free to delete it if you think it inappropriate.

67 years ago tonight VE Day was drawing to a close. The war in Europe was over. The guns had, as they had almost 27 years previously, fallen silent. The lights were back on, there were celebrations in the streets, families breathed sighs of relief that their husbands and sons would be coming home while others just prayed that the loved ones they had lost had not given their lives in vain. Across Europe, the realisation was dawning that the European war was finally over. Many of those under Nazi Occupation were now finally free, but for some, the tyranny of the Swastika was merely substituted by the misery of the Hammer and Sickle.

Half a world away the celebrations were muted. For many in the prison camps VE Day was just something they would hear about days or even weeks later. For others, VE Day was just another endless day of enduring heat and flies and danger and disease. Those remarkable men and women of the Forgotten Army, Forgotten Air Force and the British Pacific Fleet had another three months or so of bitter fighting before their final day was to come.

I’ve read a lot about the war in the Far East, and had the immense privelege of sharing some of the experiences endured by those who fought half a world away. They all share a sense of guilt at their survival, a sense of shame at the lengths some had to descend to to defeat the Japanese (or even just to survive) and a muted feeling of pride in their achievements. They will always consider themselves to be ‘forgotten’, participants in something that was seen as nothing more than a sideshow. It is incumbent upon the present and future generations that they should always be remembered.

My own families experience of VE Day were mixed. Uncle Jim was somewhere in Burma. He remembered that it was a hot day. My Mom was swept along on a tidal wave of celebration whilst my Aunt just couldn’t stop crying. Somewhere amidst all the joy and the heartache, the celebration and the reflection, my Uncle Stan was being picked up from the streets of Belfast having enjoyed himself a little too much. The next morning would see him waking on a mortuary slab.

And so VE day ended.

Regards,

kev35