Soldiering On

My wife and I are on a weekend break, in Wales and today has been sublime. 

We are out walking Hollie dog after a wonderful lazy start to the day. The weather is benign, and utterly beautiful with sunshine, warm breeze and Autumn all around. 
Walking through the park we met and engaged with an old gentleman who petted the dog and seemed happy to talk. His story is overwhelming. 

He served in the Light Infantry during World War ll and recounted tales of the battle of Monte Casino. His description of the build up to the battle was spine tingling and he described the shattering noise as a thousand bombers passed overhead to bombard the enemy emplacements.

He described how the losses were so great that his regiment were drafting in soldiers from Wales, Scotland, England and Ireland. 

He asked us to guess his age. I, stupidly, said eighty four. He sneered at that. Mrs I guessed a hundred and he chortled. 'I am not that old!' he said. ' I am only ninety seven!'

He described how he planned to go back to Italy to revisit his old haunts but couldn't because he had cared for his wife for eighteen years, through Parkinson's disease and Alzheimer's until she died. 

He lives alone, he does all his own cooking apart from Sundays when he attends church lunches. 

His name is John

And he is blind. 

A true hero