The next time you’re whining on about what a crap Christmas you had because your mother-in-law over did it on the sherry and told everyone what she really thinks about you or when your wife’s uncle Stan spent Christmas afternoon asleep on the sofa breaking wind with monotonous regularity.
Or
your brother’s new girlfriend who kept hitting on your wife or your Gran who said
“just a small dinner for me I don’t have much of an appetite” then spent the afternoon
eating all the chocolate Brazils.
If
this strikes a chord think again and Spare a thought for the half a million or
so men of the allied forces and six hundred thousand Germans who spent Christmas
1944 outside in the snow in the Ardennes forest during the battle of the bulge.
Men
like My father sheltering in foxholes scratched out of the frozen earth with no
hot food or drink.
Unable
to light fires for fear of giving their position away and regularly coming
under enemy fire or being shelled
Then once you’ve hewn out a decent sized foxhole and
settled down into it out of the icy wind an order comes down the line to move
out and you move a hundred yards or less and dig another hole.
Go and tell your petty gripes to them and see if you
get any sympathy.
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