I’m a history junkie with
a fertile imagination.
I’ve been in action at Crecy, arrows zinging down and, on Bosworth Field lifted Richard's crown.
After tending Nelson’s fatal wounds crossing to Cadiz I saluted his resting corpse in the Painted Hall at Greenwich.
Emotions have been painfully stretched on the Burma railway, heaped upon the humiliating fall of Singapore.
I’ve breached the walls of Ciudad Rodrigo but Salamanca, a Wellington masterclass, is a forgotten anticlimax.
Locked in combat with a ME109 above Sussex, my dreaming is sadly interrupted once more.... «Grandpa, Grandpa can we have an ice cream?» said Eva.