I was born in the 1960s, both my parents were born during the war and one grandfather was in the RAF. I was speaking about this with my mother and we both agreed that for several decades after the end of the war, particularly the fifties, sixties, seventies and eighties, there was a much more subdued feeling of wanting to forget about it and carry on with life. The only commemoration was Remembrance Sunday. My grandfather used to speak of six wasted years if it was mentioned - he had a young wife and two small daughters - and, naturally, missed them dreadfully. My grandmother tore up the ration books as soon as rationing ended. Like man of that generation they rarely spoke about the war. In the last twenty years or so, as it has become more distant, the opposite has occurred and we have to mark every anniversary in a more ostentatious manner. I am grateful for the wartime generation, of course l am, but it sometimes feels as if lest we forget has turned into an enforced we must never be allowed to forget.