Eighteen Halifax heavy bombers left their base in Yorkshire about two hours after midnight, on their way to hit a German coastal gun battery in Normandy. No. 433 Squadron, Royal Canadian Air Force, had struck targets in Nazi-occupied France before. But this time, as they reached the English Channel, they realized they were on a very different mission.
It was the 1960’s.
Dad and 4 or 5 war buddies would get together for a mighty drunk at least once a year.
I remember one summer day being jammed into the back seat of a vehicle with 4 of my siblings.
Dad was in the front seat helping his buddy Vic to drive.
Seat belts weren’t even an after thought.
It was a booze run to the local plaza and the promise of treats for us kids.
We bounced off the curbs as we weaved our way there and back.
I recall being embarrassed about the poor driving and not at all concerned about safety.
I got a bag of chips, a 10 cent one, and I think a Pepsi.
It was the 1960’s.
