My Dad survived the Bataan Death March and was POW of the Japanese for about 3 ½ years during World War II. His brother also was killed during WWII. He did not know about his brother until he was liberated. My Dad taught me that no matter how bad things get, never give up. He said there is always hope. Even after what he went through, he faced things with a positive attitude. He would do things to make people laugh and get their minds off their troubles. He would make up little songs and dance a little jig. He did have PTSD, but tried not to dwell on the bad experiences. He worked hard. Even after retiring, he stayed busy checking on his Mother, getting a part-time job, and helping others. When I bought my house, he told me it was his job to mow my yard (including a steep hillside). He did this until he was 90 years old and his health started to fail. I always fly an American Flag to honor his memory.
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