I've been tweeting to various D-Day tweeters, who have very kindly been retweeting, but with no practical result as yet. I suppose I ought not to be impatient. Dad landed by glider on D Day. All he ever bothered to say about it was that as soon as the aircraft landed, the company lined up along the nearest hedge and relieved themselves. They had been cooped up in the gliders for an age, and encourgaed to drink as much tea and water as possible (to reduce airsickness apparently). There is a very good piece about this quoted in Orr and Truesdale's 'The Rifles Are There' (Pen and Sword). The picture is from the Daily Mai, April 1958. It is a very good likeness of my father.
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