My grandfather was never able to tell me any war stories because he never survived his war. Buried in the peaceful, picturesque and well-cared-for Cemetrie de Canadese in Agira, Sicily, Grandpa's tales remain his own.

We did contact the Department of National Defence (DND) and had his records copied and delivered. We now have the details of his last moments on earth as a 20 year-old father of two. But there was no insight into what war was like for him, how it felt to leave Canada for the first time and travel to the other side of the world in order to kill other men and to be killed.

After years of wondering, I met a wonderful senior named Wid Smith through my work at the Houston Royal Canadian Legion. Wid not only had a lot to say about his experiences during WWII, but he had written it all down and before leaving Houston for warmer climates, handed me a copy to send to the Memory Project (www.memory project.com). Hopefully they will put it up on their website as Wid has written an almost day-by-day account of his journey through hell and back. The following is just a glimpse of what was hand written over the 75 pages I received.

"I was 22 that fall in 1939. I was working for the Sarnie Lumber Company. I mostly drove horses for them, but would try whatever they would let me."..."I remember that day so well when a truck driver drove into the yard waving a newspaper on which there were three blood red letters WAR."