He was my father. Though we lived far apart we were close because we were brothers of the salt. Sounds ridculous, but true.
We both joined the Royal Navy at 15, he in 1935, me in 1980. When he came to my passing out parade at H.M.S. Ganges, he could see the ghosts of all his old comrades where I could see a recreation lounge. But I understood. Sailors will only ever be understood by sailors. Same with soldiers or airmen.
He had a shitload of medals, not for anything outstanding, just because he was there.
Of all the stories he ever told, I can only bring one to mind. He was a bit of a singer, my dad, used to sing with a band. Bing Crosby sort of stuff.
As the second world war was finishing , in the Far East, he and his band did a concert for the the prisoners of Changi prison, in Singapore. So traumatised were these men that, after the concert, they went back inside the prison to sleep, seeking safety in a hellhole that was familiar.
How do I ever live up to that.
I love you Dad
2007-06-25
13:36:40
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25 answers
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asked by
Taffd
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