A few weeks ago I got out my Dad’s coveralls and had Jack the Bear made. I thought I’d do the same with my Uncle Jimmie’s army jacket but it is too beautiful. How these articles of clothing can contain so much memory for me. Memory of a small boy up on the pine covered roof of the pottery after lunch where my Uncle Jimmie would tell me tales of working in the potteries and then of his 5 years in the trenches during WW2. He didn’t join the Legion or want to talk of the horrors of war. He talked of the good times he had with the boys and how proud he was that a man with a Grade 6 education had risen to the rank of Lance Sargeant with 3 stripes. We would then have a 5 minute power nap just like he was forced to do in the trenches of Normandy. People wonder how I can go to sleep so fast. Early training from my Uncle Jimmie. He was a short, strong, kind and gentle man but I never knew him to back down from anything or anyone. He had only one direction – forward!. Good training for being in the mud trenches. Being a practicing potter is not for the weak at heart. Tomorrow I will visit the small cemetery where my aunt and uncle rest. They were both veterans of WW2. How much I owe them is beyond calculation.