For my Uncle John who was captured by the Japanese and tortured. His eyelids were cut off and after the war he arrived home an emaciated 6' 3" shadow of the laughing rambunctious man who marched away from all he loved and cared for. The family gathered eagerly at the railway station to meet him; he stepped off the train and bowed low to everyone as he was forced to do during his internment. He never recovered and coped with life by drinking, a stranger to his family. He died much too young, broken and lost. Remember how they all suffered for our precious freedom.