Yesterday, I learnt that my 'Uncle' Gordon Thackeray who had piloted my Dad safely through all those hazardous raids from Malta in his Wellington, had passed away.
He was my Godfather.
Today, I heard they are dedicating a memorial to the 'Cockleshell Heroes' on the Pointe de La Grave - the tip of the Médoc - at the mouth of the Gironde.
And I can't tell you how glad I am that Denis was able to deliver a load of our wine there this morning to help with a few toasts to some incredible men.
Our gesture is nothing - absolutely nothing - compared to what those men gave. Only two survived.
I look at my generation; The Lucky Generation, born after the war, who reaped all the benefits.
What did we do that compared in any way to what our parent's generation did for us?
When, next month we sail our cargo of wine past the new monument I will be thinking of my Dad and Gordon as well as the Commandos of Frankton.
The Frankton Raid led by Major 'Blondie' Hasler was even more suicidal than a bomber raid. They were to paddle canoes up through the tides of the Gironde and set mines on ships in Bordeaux to cripple the harbour. They did that, but what a price they paid.
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