A few years ago I had to start to clear my parents’ home. In one of the cupboards I discovered a black tin box with a small label saying “Deed Box”. Inside was a huge collection of letters, dating from 1945 to 1956. The rubber bands holding small piles of letters disintegrated as I touched them. It took several readings to realise that I was to find out much more about their history (and by extension, my own). It is unusual to “meet your own parents” when they are young, and to see them as individuals before you knew them. I think it is a huge privilege to have such an opportunity and I have personally found it an enthralling and emotional experience. More recently I was able to transcribe my father's war diary and research what happened in Burma in 1944 and 45. I was horrified by the terrible experiences that thousands of men fighting for the British Empire, as well as millions of civilians during occupation by the Japanese.