Today is remembrance day, and I am afraid I am going to forgo most of the usual crochet chit chat, and make a little tribute to the most amazing people I have known.
Desiree Marie Mannot (My Oma)

Oma with my Mama
When the Japanese took over Indonesia (then the Indies) my Oma was just 18. She was moved from camp to camp with her family, whom she, for the large part, looked after; as her step-mother was heavily pregnant.
The few stories she told me from this time were absolutely horrific. From being almost eaten alive by bed bugs that burrowed under the skin, to watching her neighbour starve (leaving behind small children), and knowing there was nothing she could do. Everyone lived in huge rooms with a couple of bunk beds per family, and they usually only had a small cup of starch and a cup of rice with water each day.
She had no word from her father, and when her brothers reached a certain age, they were taken away to go to men's camps. Her sister suffered with infected lungs, and spent years on the edge of death. Against the odds, they all survived, even the little baby who was born in the horror of the camps.
Oma was never completely able to forget or forgive what happened to her but, as well as a capacity for the pain, she found the world infinitely humorous, and is who I got my 'Muttley' laugh from. I think this picture shows her in sheer joy. I promised her, before she died, that she could go in peace, because I would remember. So I will.
Mollie Marshall Read and William G Read ( My Gran and Granddad)
My Gran and Granddad were the epitome of everything honorable for me. Nobody in the known world is quite as feisty as my Gran. During the war she signed up without her fathers permission when she was just 17. She rose quickly through the ranks and was always prepared. One time when walking through a field with a friend, a German airplane swooped down and shot at them, she kept her head and ran to safety. She also armed her team with pots and pans and anything the could get hold of when they believed Germans had landed. I have no doubt that if they had ever got close to her, they would have turned tail. Our shores were safe in her hands.
She is the world's greatest knitter, and I was chuffed to pieces when she recently told me that her mother was an avid crocheter. As you can see from the above picture, Gran and Granddad were real adventurers.
Granddad was at the liberation of Belsen and the war changed the course of his life. Before hand he had been studying to become a priest, but afterwards he believed there could be no god if he allowed such things to happen. So he spent his life learning and bettering himself. He knew everything about everything. When we used to speak on the phone, when I lived in some far flung country, he would look at his atlas so he knew exactly where I was. He always called me his princess...
me and Granddad
He was always a rebel though, starting up some of the first labour unions and getting fired for doing so. He also turned down a MBE, because it didn't fit in with his values. I suppose in a way he is still my hero.
Medals
Dog tag
This picture was taken not that long before he died, but I am still incredibly lucky to have my Gran. Who recently became a mini celebrity by appearing in a charity leaflet that went out in all the national papers. She was a natural.
So these are the people I spent today thinking about.
I also did a little crochet....