This sketch was created whilst in Changi prison.It is of my nanna's brother Patrick Quirk. Puddling around doing family history brings to life not only the names of ancestors but the stories of their lives. I can recall how nanna told of the story of when as a small child she hid behind a chair hiding from the man in a uniform who made her mother cry...it was Pat on the day he had enlisted coming to tell his mum he was off to the war.
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