I was born in Blantyre, Scotland, 1914, 29th of November. One day I passed eight Germans. They were on the side of the road, but I didn’t see any rifles around, and I went right past them. They were waving at me, waving at me. I didn’t stop. I didn’t know what they were and didn’t care. [laughs]
It wasn’t nice over there. And if I had to do it, I’d do the same thing again I think. I rode in Canada and I rode in France. I got one dispatch to take over to Czechoslovakia. That was a rough trip. I never forgot that one for a while. It’s not very nice when somebody’s shooting at you when you’re riding through. Motorcycles, they tried to hit motorcycles because they were always carrying dispatches. They put piano wire across the highway. Well, war is a scary business.