My father was killed by a German mine, while I lost other relatives in Allied bombing attacks.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My mother had a son from previous marriage and her husband died in Second World War.
My father was in the First World War.
My mother was a product of World War II. My grandfather was on leave in Edinburgh when he met my grandmother.
My father-in-law was a pilot. During World War II, he was shot down in a B-17 over Belgium. With the help of the French Resistance, he made his way through Occupied France and back to his base in England.
When I was a kid, my dad went to World War II. I didn't know him. I was born in '41.
My father and brothers were in the military.
In August 1914, my father was called to war and then taken prisoner. He died in captivity in Germany on March 27, 1915. My youth - indeed, my entire life - was deeply marked by this, directly and indirectly.
My father was a Japanese prisoner of war, a survivor of the Thai-Burma Death Railway, built by a quarter of a million slave labourers in 1943. Between 100,000 and 200,000 died.
Both my father and mother were survivors of the Warsaw Ghetto and the Nazi concentration camps. Apart from my parents, every family member on both sides was exterminated by the Nazis.
My father served as an Army doctor in West Germany in the late '50s and early '60s. As a result, he and my mother - both native southerners - were acutely aware of what had happened during the Holocaust.