In Memory of Bravery

My father, Milton Clarence James Dale, was a celebrated second world war hero, Distinguished Flying Cross, No. 166 Squadron. He flew Lancaster bombers, and I was surprised a few days before he died in hospital that he yelled, Ann, be quiet, I can't hear bomber command. How much we learn about our parents as people through death, as I realized how dramatically the war must have affected a 17 year old who lied about his age when he first joined the RAF, for him to such vivid memories as he died. My father was a bit of a curmedgeon, and one day he called me up, and began to tease me. "All your generation does is complain about being stressed, and then you go out to bars, and put more debt on your credit cards, and get more stressed. I didn't even know the meaning of the word when I was flying the bombers". 

You Might Also Like...

Welcome to the CRC blog, where we discuss bleeding edge issues around sustainable community development. The term ‘bleeding edge’ connotes...
I have been trying to experiment with how to communicate research through the use of the arts. We created a CRC Arts Committee but have yet...
This poem makes me think about how important the reconciliation of the personal imperative with the ecological, social and economic is. My...

Add comment

Login to post comments