Dearest sapper,
Rest assured this thread has not died. Since i'm a new member of these forums, I had a whole lot of catching up to do on your stories. I have come back to your story almost daily to read through the ordeal you had to bear. At long last I managed to read through untill the time of your terrible wounding that had you encased in plaster. Every second I spent reading your posts was time very well spent. Thank you so much for sharing.
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Later, they took me on a tour of Brussels, into the main square where all the architecture of the buildings is different, I was also taken to see the Manikin, that's the little boy having a wee, very realistic! They were very proud of their city, with good reason, it was a very attractive place.
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I'm Belgian and used to live in Brussels so it was amazing to read your recollections of passing through the city.
that little statue is called 'manneken pis' which in dutch means : 'the little fellow that has a wee' and he still stands proudly doing his thing to this day
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The name of these gracious people? Something like: Charles and Lucia van Dusselaire. or something like that, Like most service men little things trigger off memories of past kindness' and I remember those very kind folk who tried to help a young soldier on his way with deep gratitude.
Yes ! I remember. I remember. Nor am I likely ever to forget. Bless you Belgium Folk What Kindness! What Kindness! I yearn to find that family and to thank them and show them my family. What a joy that would be. Sadly, I will never know. For it far too late.
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I know a young chap about my age called Van Dosselaere, when I get home to Belgium I will make sure to enquire with him the names of his (great)grandparents. Maybe by some incredibly stroke of luck this might just be the family who so kindly welcomed you.
I know chances of it are very slim considering you are still suffering from your wounds endured so long ago, but if you ever do get back to Belgium, be sure that my door is wide open for you.