The storey we all wanted to listen as children was the one about dad that would explain why his face was covered in what we as kids saw as millions of small dents and scratches of which I will tell you all about closer to the finish of my tribute to the greatest dad a daughter could ever have had. His dying at the early age of fifty four fell as a shock especially when his designation for the infirmary was to take a plaster cast removed only to have him dropped dead in the waiting room.

Although our his death was sudden, the tenderest of memories still held a compelling presence in my mind for 26 years. If I could wrench the clock back - I would tell him how sorry I was for the times I took him for granted but unfortunately that self-reproach will be carried to my grave where I know being the good man that he was will be waiting for me at the pearly gates with open arms full of forgiveness.

They say the good die early and that is what has aided to comfort the bitterness I experienced towards the man up above for taking dad so soon.People see the word “special” in many ways. So what do I see in my father that makes him to a greater extent special than the others?

Dad functioned in the armed forces for thirty-four years along side an army of Fathers Day Gifts. He was designated in Hong Kong when this story took place. The alarm triggered into motion the evacuation of folks living outside the camp to seek asylum in the camp immediately.

Eight of us were jammed in the rear of an army wagon with only pillows used for protection. We readily followed the order to keep our heads down - the Chinese riot mobs were coming out up from the trenches that lined the road back to the camp amply armed with all kinds of killing instruments - twenty one stones gone into the wagon on the journey back to camp.

The convoy that followed now stood as burning wrecks.You can only guess what the truck and the driver looked like when a onslaught of boulders were cast into the front portion of the wagon. Army officers didn’t give a medal of bravery to the driver. The reason why was because he should not have been driving at the time, so all the congratulations went to the wrong man sitting up front.

I often wonder nowadays this day would we all have got out alive if the boot was on the other foot, if those drivers did not follow the rules.

The outcome of that terrifying day was a truck with no windshield, a driver with no face and 8 people who lived to recount the story. Now, you understand the cause why the marks on my father’s face scarred us for life.