The day’s twilight came with September at its best. My wife urged me to take Sailor, our rescue dog, on a walk around the block. So away we went, thankful for a cool breeze, gorgeous sunset and sidewalks. We chanced to walk alongside a next-block neighbor who posed a random-as-it-gets question: “Do you remember anything from 75 years ago?” I’d already shut down deep-thinking, but memories bubbling near the top sprang forth with the ease of hummingbirds flitting to – then fro – in a welltended flower garden. The year was 1945. World War II was finally over. My war memories were foggy, so ...