I lost my father when I was twenty-five. He died at the age of fifty-six back in 1978. He was and continues to be a huge influence on me. He was a Lieutenant in the FSSF, 3rd Regiment. He left a leg on a path near Sospel, France. Finding the exact place where he was wounded in a quiet forest on the edge of a mountain in the Alps was profoundly moving. He had apparently crawled back to his men, ordering them to not come to his aid, thereby saving other lives as they found two more mines on the trail he had walked before stepping on the box mine.

Gianni and Roland brought those years back into focus. They made history come alive. Gianni showed me a fountain where they would have stopped to drink. He showed me a path outside a headquarters building where they would undoubtedly have walked. Roland showed me the path of my dad’s last walk before being injured. I have been back in Canada about three weeks. I cannot stop thinking about our experience and the courage and sacrifice of these wonderful men.