I just want to share a little story with my nomad friends.

For several years in Dad's later life, I took him to Anzac Day at Greenbank RSL. One year, his Army mate Jack...who later married Dad's sister... had moved to Qld, so he came too. After the service etc, sitting inside, they met a few youngish blokes who sat with them, fussed over them, found comfy chairs for them, bought them drinks, and listened to their stories. Dad & Jack were great storytellers, or as we used to say, BS artists, so they were in their element. Anyway Jack didn't come again because he lived at Wynnum and so would go to the service there. But Dad still went every year, and every year those fellows would be there to meet him and do it all again. When Dad died in '08, I sent a message to Andrew, and those that were able, came to his funeral. Every year since then Andrew has sent me a lovely message from the dawn service, from the three of them. I've just recieved this years message...Morning, a special day. Fred might be in a special place and I'm sure he's smiling. God bless, we will remember.

They'll be pi**ed as f**ts by days end, but what a great bunch of blokes!