During the Falklands War I left my best mate and went to War, at the end of the fighting we both met up again in the Capital Stanley, we were filthy bearded and had lost so much weight we didn’t recognise each other.
A D day vetran tries to celebarate Christmas.
Sometimes the survivors of War have the hardest battle of all.
A poem about my War experince in the Falklands and my PTSD.
