Hero worship, not a bad trait in a young lad. my hero's were the steam train drivers at Liverpool street station in london, this was back in the mid fifties. Getting older it was the men, like my father, ( still alive at 93) and uncles in WW2 that engaged the Germans and Japanese, and as I progressed in my somewhat mundane military career, it was the sports instructors, which I eventually became. Now a crusty asthmatic old fart, I look at the lads and lasses who have returned from foriegn shores,( one being our daughter in law) who have actively engaged the queens enemy's with envious eyes, something I never had the opertunity, or chance to experience.Because I was only 17?!!
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