A tour of German bunkers.

I went on a tour of some of the remaining German bunkers. My father would passed by here on his way to Leeuwarden and exchanged gun shots. As I stood beside the bunker in this picture I can’t imagine what he and many others must have gone through. My father did not speak much about the war but one thing that haunted him his whole life was; he realized he was shooting at fathers and sons whose only difference was the colour of the uniform. After WWII there was not what we call treatment for PTSD as there is now. It was called “shell shock “ with no after care. He signed up when he was 21 and given the rank of Lieutenant and went onto to become a Major. He was without a doubt the kindest most gentle man I have ever known. This trip has brought back such sweet memories of him.

Till next time. Peace and love from me to you.