On a personal note my two grand-dads were pretty cool, my maternal "pop" was in the 8th army during WWII. Saw some things that changed him, drank a little and had the occasional flutter on the gg's on his return, but loved his family dearly and never missed a days work through petty illness. My paternal grand-dad was to young for WWI and too old for WWII, was a farmer all his life and a champion gardener - have some of his horticulture medals on his watch-chain I wear. Was pretty much a total Calvanist east coaster. I only remember him speaking once. Most of the visits he'd be sitting dressed, totally silent by the fire. Never speaking. One time as a tott I was playing with the fire as usuall and obviously annoying my Grandmother, she was moaning at me and my Grandad spoke!
He said, "Leave the boy be, he's doing no harm." I don't know if any of you read Terry Prattchet? but it was like DEATH" speaking. This giant man who had to stoop in his house had spoken up in my favour. I remember sitting there staring at him, thinking WOW. We'd always been brought up knowing our family history of the fact that the McLeod clan had brought us over as " hired swords" from Norway to keep the neighbours quiet. And here was this giant viking speaking for me.My dad was also a pretty good chap, had his foibles, but served his country in Malasia, and taught me honour and an almost calvanistic work ethic. Brought me up to have an almost medievil sense of honour... which admitedly hasn't always been easy, whilst having a spiritual side which wasn't entrenched in a set faith. Pretty good man. Feel he taught me right and wrong.
Thanks
Colin.
