‘La, la, la’, sings Gramps this morning as he builds his breakfast which consists of two poached eggs on a split and toasted bun with a little jam, one half a chopped onion fried in butter, a small bowl of applesauce and two pieces of bacon. As he cooks away, he begins to tell me a story so I grab my computer and begin to type as he goes back in time to the 1940’s when he served for four years in the Army Air force.Three of those years were served in the South Pacific.

“Well, I was at Tontoota Base in New Caledonia in the Pacific during the war.  One afternoon we were playing badminton outside the colonel’s shack. That colonel was a man with the rank and not much else. He was not outstanding in any way. He was a fat, lazy, unfriendly man who hardly left his tent.

It was a warm afternoon and we were hot and sweaty from our badminton game so after a while I went into the colonel’s tent to find some water. He was sleeping on his couch as he often was but I knew where his fridge was so I opened it, took out a bottle of water and- glug glug glug- swallowed it down. As I was getting to the bottom of the drink suddenly I realized it did not taste like water. So I turned the bottle around and read – Developing Hypo.

I was a little concerned not knowing if what I had swallowed was going to damage me or not. So I went across camp ‘hariap kwiktaim’ to see the doctor and tell him my plight. The doc knew what developing hypo was. He looked me over, chuckled and then said, ‘Well, let’s see what develops.’’’

Story told, Gramps finished his large plate of food and then said, ‘Well, I think I will conclude my breakfast with a doughnut.’

And let me conclude this post by saying, Thank you, Gramps, for all your wonderful stories and for your service to our country.