At the going down of the sun
Not that I need reminding, to me November means one thing - remembering the fallen and damaged lives, who gave their lives for our freedom. Being ex-services, I carry with me a constant reminder of my days in the Royal Air Force. My left tendon ripped, and I am waiting for the right muscle to become torn.
Two years ago, I wrote my story From Elgar to Vaughan Williams as a commemoration of what became known as The Lost Generation. Young men and women who went to war, and returned broken in spirit - some scars are not physical - I knew a man who had nightmares about the Burma railway death marches.
I dedicated my book to my late grandfather who fought with the East Yorkshire Regiment in #WW1. I didn't get to know him as we moved when I was eight.