History in a Box

 It was an interesting day when my Dad and Nan announced that they had found some "old war medals" in her attic. Interesting because as far as I knew my family did not achieve any exceptionally heroic acts, stories or high-ranking positions during either war; the only one I could remember had put on pantomimes and shows to entertain troops stuck in an airbase. An act which I prize very highly, but is unfortunately unlikely to warrant country-wide military acclaim. Carefully wrapped in tissue paper, the medal was handed to me almost reverently, and I prepared myself for the weight of the medal on my palm. Only, it was too light. Removing the paper in front of my family's eager awaiting eyes, each one hoping for a link to some forgotten wartime glory (or perhaps an expensive relic that could be sold), I was surprised at what I saw.  The medal was not really a medal at all. It reminded me more of a medal you might win for an egg and spoon race, rather than a war. Needless to...