I love hearing my dad reminisce about his childhood. He was only seven during World War II, and his experience of living in Hackney at the time felt more like an adventure to him than the fear and worry the adults must have endured. My granddad, his father, wasn’t allowed to fight as he was deemed too valuable in other ways and assigned to war work. As a skilled engineer, he contributed by making bomb sights for munitions and also served as a local warden. My other granddad, on my mum’s side, was stationed in France on anti-aircraft guns. My mother didn’t meet him until she was three years old. But thank goodness she did, and we were fortunate enough to grow up with all our grandparents. I will never forget the sacrifices made by that generation. It’s becoming harder to convey to younger generations just what our families went through during those years. It saddens me that, despite everything they endured, we still struggle to find better ways to resolve conflicts. “Never again” s...