Memories; they live on and emerge when a simple word recalls them and stirs the cache of stories from the past. Music stirred my memory this time, the skirl of bagpipes and sound of marching feet, drums beating time. I could hear them coming from round the corner, the sound still stirs my senses, especially on Anzac Day. The place was Brisbane. The time was the early 1940's. Our Dad wanted to say 'good-bye' to his brother and Mum had to see her young brother.