It's exciting to see my Stalag Luft 3 story on the newsstands now, in the November issue of North & South magazine. I'm so sorry that my father's no longer here to read it, as he'd be so proud - of my achievement. Really though, I'd hope that he'd see from the story that he had real reason to be proud of himself, and that his war hadn't been a wasted effort, as he described it in letters from the prison camp back home to his mother. It's awful to think that he was ashamed of having been knocked out of the game so early, after flying only seven missions against the Germans; when in fact it took real grit to endure not only the grinding boredom and harsh conditions of the camp, but also the terrifying fugitive period beforehand and the horrendous Long March afterwards. It's the sort of thing that marks you forever; or that makes you.
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