My dad. circa 1940

This photo is very dear to me because as a child it was sat beside my bed and every night when I learnt to talk I said a prayer for my daddy to be safe.
 I was born in 41 and my mum kept my dad alive in my mind  so that when he came home I knew him, a lot of children rejected their dads as they were strangers. 
He joined up in 1939 and his last leave was in 41 when I was about 5 months old. Mum went down to Surrey a couple of months later to see him before embarkation.  She told me of how the landlady woke her up in the early hours as the troops were marching by and she saw him as he passed, that was the last time until 1946 when he came home, 5 long years. When she told me I sat and cried with her at the thought of seeing your husband going away to war and not knowing if you would ever see them again.

My dad died 17th October 1992 I still miss him. Goodnight Dad Love you still.