My Greatest Hero ...

A simple life I have lived, a poor farmer’s boy working from dawn to dusk and going to school with little time for play in between. During the winter months, ...
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A simple life I have lived, a poor farmer’s boy working from dawn to dusk and going to school with little time for play in between. During the winter months, there was little reprieve from the freezing cold snow outside because the newspapers still had to delivered to the local farmers. Sometimes they were hard to please, so we’d swap their boots and letterboxes with their neighbor’s, who lived miles away till we got caught, though they never saw the funny side.

Having seen first hand the perils of WWII, then aged 5 years, living in fear as the German occupancy infiltrated our family farm. There was much rejoice when the war had ended, though my chores at home still continued on.

After schooling years had finished, there was no getting out of National Service, which was was compulsory back then and signed up to learn a trade as a Gunsmith/Fitter and Turner in NATO Forces.

After serving 3 years, decided this isn’t the life for me, so off we sailed, my older brother and I, across the seas to a foreign land Down Under where the sun shines all year round.

At first, it wasn’t easy trying to say g’day mate the Aussie way and learning the lingo from comic books. Often mistaken for a Wog, though I don’t speak Italian.

Married a wonderful lady from outback Queensland, she said she grew up on a Station called Mugwee, somewhere out Woop Woop. You’d be lucky to find it on a map.

And who might this person be before me, one asks ... for he is my spiritual teacher and wise counsellor, for he is my Greatest Hero... he is my father.
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