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My Dad was working in the local hospital when war broke out so he had to go into The Royal Army Medical Coupe. He travel all over on the troup ships. There was many stories that I can't recall, but his one make me mad when footballers are called heros.
When on leave my Dad used to run along the roof tops of the street in Liverpool in army hob nail boots, where my future Mother lived Kicking fire bombs into the street then picking them up with a coal shovel, tacking them into the house and using them as coal in the fire place.
That street was one of the few that got through the war!

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