There are only a few stories my dad told of living in Holland in world war two but one always stands out for me this time of year and on this particular day.
My dad lived in a small village in holland and it wasn't uncommon to have solders in the village what was uncommon was to see allied solders, but there he was a allied air force solder in the village, his story is the one I remember.
This solder was a co-pilot and his plane had been shot down and was headed for the village my dad lived in.
The pilot rather then risk killing any of the villagers, who were to him only nameless people in a foreign county, told his co-pilot to jump out of the plane while he tried to keep it in the air and get it past the village.
The pilot succeeded and saved who knows who and who knows how many people but he died that day in a fiery plane outside of a village in a foreign country far from home.
I always wonder if that pilot had jumped and the plane had crashed into the village would I be here?
To the unnamed pilot who died that day so far from home I thank you.
There are countless stories of countless sacrifices made but this is one I always will remember on this day especially.
To all who died to save those they would never know, thank you your sacrifice was not in vain.