remember sitting in the sunroom as a yound grandchild listening to him talk about the war, the mud, the rats, the good times and the bad. spoke with pride of his comrades, his first charge and hearing the bullet that should have killed him- miss him. he transfered to the royal flying corp when back in france as they promised a bed and linen to sleep in and one hot meal a day.

this was enough of a promise to fly in a wood / fabric plane be2c and have people shoot at you with no parachute

he was invited to the australian film gallipoli and i remember him returning after the movie and in the middle of the night listening frigtened as i heard him cry, all those horrible memories just came back