My first vivid memory is sitting with my dad – he smelt of extra strong mints. He was talking about his experiences as a paratrooper in the second world war. He remains to this day, my hero. Not just because he gave me the freedom I have today, but because he was a good man. I asked him questions he must have found difficult, but still found time to answer them. I saw him on Remembrance Sunday. His tears showed me a man who would always think of his fallen friends.