Based on a true story (in fact the story of my own family). Airborne soldier (Ted) lands by glider in the early hours of D-Day 1944 to capture bridges vital to the success of the invasion. Somehow he survives the war and returns to his wife and family, a hero, unscathed physically but emotionally damaged. The initial joy is soon cooled as his wife (Florrie) realises that she no longer knows who this man is. Will loyalty, love and their determination see them through as Ted experiences vivid and disturbing flashbacks?
Later Florrie begins to experience mental health issues of her own so now the situation is reversed. How will Ted react? Will the same sense of duty and courage so strong in wartime be appropriate now or will that same stubbornness that kept them going then, now destroy them both and how will it inevitably affect the children?
This is a story of ordinary people in extraordinary times. A story that refuses to fit into a niche genre. A story of the social history of post-war England, a story which covers issues of duty, courage, trauma, drama, romance, humour and above all, unconditional love.
There are many 5 star reviews on Goodreads, amazon.co.uk, Smashwords and the author’s web site.
” Deeply moving – the author gets inside the characters – I feel as if I know them – beautifully written and deserves the rave reviews – blown away – profound, provocative and eye-opening – grabbed me from the opening pages and didn’t let go until the end – this book has it all, action, drama, history, conflict, romance… check it out. – hands down one of the most riveting and well-crafted books I’ve read in a long time – skillful word-play – OK, just a head’s up… when you start reading, make sure you don’t have anywhere you need to be or anything you need to do because you won’t want to stop reading until you’ve finished it all!! Trust me on this!”
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Attended a 1950s grammar school in Kent (The Garden of England) which meant hard work and discipline (boys would have to doff their caps to teachers when in the street and occasionally accept corporal punishment). The aim was University entrance preferably Oxford or Cambridge. I left – well qualified – and joined a gang of Irish labourers followed by jobs as assistant gravedigger, gardener – joined the Parachute Regiment of the British Army (including a year’s tour in the mystical deserts of the Middle East and a civil war in Cyprus) became a graphic designer, principal lecturer at the University for the Creative Arts, learnt the alto sax with a lot more passion than skill and eventually (when I thought I might have accumulated something to say) sat down to write.