Going through some of my parents’ papers recently I found some old photos taken by my father in Germany in 1945/6 when he was 19. He arrived from Britain in December 1944, fighting through Belgium, Holland and Germany. I do not know where this is, but somewhere in northern Germany. It could be any town in Britain or the continent at the time. It is amazing what people went through at a very young age. We can see it in the faces of those who are still alive to tell of their experiences. What affect it has had on them we may never know, and never imagined as we grew up. One thing is certain, they never wanted to live it again. Today is about peace and a commitment to build bridges with all nations, even when our overtures are not reciprocated. Then we just have to work harder.