GROWING up, a cabinet of sentimental possessions stood at our front door and welcomed me home each day.

My favourite trinkets were my grandpa's war memorabilia - his flying hat, a carved pipe and a beautiful harmonica in its original box.

He died when I was six.

I would bring his memory to life when I zoomed down our hallways wearing his pilot hat or made terrible sounds on the 70-year-old harmonica (I'm a bit irked reflecting on the hygiene of that now.)

Hearing the gripping stories emerging from the North Burnett amid Anzac Day reminds me of the sacrifice my grandpa made and the tales he would have told.

Because Maxwell passed away when I was so young, I never got to pick his brains about his time in the Second World War as an aircraft mechanic.

Now I would jump through hoops for the chance to listen to his experience in the war.

I would ask how he managed to break his nose before even leaving the Melbourne barracks or about his brother Donald whose plane went down while he was flying over Malta.

My dad does his best to relay what my grandpa divulged.

For those of you whose war heroes are still alive, I hope you embrace the opportunity to listen this Anzac Day.