It was early in January, 1945, and the then 18-year-old was at work in the Rural Bank in Sydney.

Her manager told her her mother had rung with the news the 20-year-old flying officer had not returned from a bombing run over Munich.

"The weather had been awful, they had dropped their bombs and it was concluded one of the German night fighters got them on the way back," she said.

On reaching home she was confronted by a terrible sight. Her father was sitting in the lounge room, consumed by grief and sobbing his heart out.

"It was terrible," she said. "I had never seen a man cry before."

Flying Officer Colin Flockhart is one of the many service personnel remembered with a plaque in the Warrior's Chapel at the Presbyterian Church of St Andrew in Forrest.

The chapel will, as has been the custom for many years, be the venue for an ecumenical Anzac Day remembrance service at 6.45am on Saturday.

Reverend David Campbell, the senior minister of St Andrew's, said the chapel honoured all from the region who had died in war and that people of all faiths were welcome.

Mrs Aitken, who moved to Canberra with her late husband, John, in 1959, has been a member of the St Andrew's congregation for 56 years.

The Deakin resident said when she first heard about her brother's death she had been most worried about her mother. "Mum was the soft one," she said. "She and Colin had been very close."

To her surprise she found her mother in another room ironing.

"Mum told me `I couldn't sit down and do nothing after the telegram' and then shared a special moment that has left me grateful for God's grace for the whole of my life," Mrs Aitken said.

"Mum knew what the telegram was and, before opening it, took it into the bedroom to pray over it. Suddenly there was a vision of Colin, standing with his hands outstretched; he put his arms around her and they had one last goodbye. That single moment sustained her for the rest of her life."

It allowed Mrs Flockhart to bear up with surprising fortitude at a time when others were crumbling.

"Mum told me that when our grandmother had lost a child she had grieved so heavily it was a burden on the family. She vowed never to do the same."

By the time mother and daughter went back into the living room Mr Flockhart had regained his composure. "He was tremendously strong after that," she said. "I never saw him cry again."

Mrs Aitken, now 89, remembers the events of 70 years ago as if they were yesterday.

"Colin was extraordinary," she said. "He was academically gifted, could remember anything he saw or read and had a beautiful personality."

This shines through in a remarkable letter he wrote to his family on December 1, 1944, and marked "only to be posted in the event of my death".

"This war was inevitable and I could never have been content unless I did my share," he wrote. "Never regret having given me your consent to enlist."

Alan, Mrs Aitken's other brother, joined the army and served in New Guinea.

"Fortunately he came back," Mrs Aitken said.

"I have never forgotten what mum told me all those years ago. She said: `There is nothing you can do for the dead. You have to live for the living'."