The invisible seafaring industry that keeps the internet afloat

I’ve still got his letters. Well, messages, but I think of them as ‘letters’, a bit like the ones generations of men sent home from the front to partners and kids. I guess those kids treasured their dad’s messages too. They were probably as proud as I was… and am. The ‘letters’ don’t talk about what he was doing, I guess he couldn’t. But I pictured him, far away, fighting for something, fighting for me, my way of life. Most people don’t remember that real men (and women) had to do this, back then. It’s different now. But I remember.