There’s nothing more embarrassing than getting your little fat arms stuck down the armholes of an expensive designer cardigan in a high street fashion store.
There I was last Tuesday, with both my arms at the back of me tugging at the sleeves to try and get it off, when I heard a male vioce say: Can I help you?’
As we both wriggled me out of the cardi, I noticed the gentleman was leaning on a crutch and had a large scar on his right shoulder.
‘What happened there?’ I enquired.
‘Oh, I was blown up in the war,’ came the reply.
We had a bit of a chinwag, but unfortunately I didn’t get my ‘rescuer’s’ name.
Folks, it certainly made me think about some of the horrendous injuries our active servicemen have returned home with, yesterday and today.