thanks very much for your kind thoughts.
He served in the Canadian Army as a motorcycle dispatch rider in WWII. He lost his leg above the knee in France and would have bled to death in a ditch if it hadn't been for his commanding officer who refused to leave him to die.
Of the 4 kids in his family who signed up (the youngest had to lie about his age) he was the only one to get injured. He met my mother while recovering in England and she ended up moving over to Canada with him in '45.
He never ever felt "handicapped", he enjoyed life and proved to be a very strong swimmer. He led a full life until passing away from cancer in 1993.
I often feel it but rarely say it, but we really do owe that generation a debt.
ok off my soapbox
thanks for listening.
