A life long obsession brought on by sitting on my fathers knee listening to his sagacious tales of his life, his wondrous travels, amazing adventures in far off mystic lands, his battles with his fists, Short Magazine Lee–Enfield Mk II, and loss of loved ones.  Endless hours his beery breath burning into my soft pliable brain, always wanting more actually feeling the 120 degrees of heat in the shade in Calcutta, running along side him as he ran the ponies through the lanes to the pit head, rounding the Cape of good hope with an heaving stomach and all.  Magic pictures painted so that to this day I still wonder at his setting them to words and giving me a desire to walk in his wake.

I started with dad then granddad Tom and never stopped the line stretching far back through history and at every twist and turn a glimpse of the stuff that made my dad and me.