My Poppy was bought in memory of my Father, William, who was killed in the early stages of the Allied landings at Salerno, Italy. He was 36 and I was 13 months at the time, so never really knew him. His body was taken to the Bone Cemetery near Annaba in Eastern Algeria where he is buried. The political situation in Algeria means that I will probably never be able to visit his grave – but I have now this wonderful Poppy to remember him by. To whoever conceived this wonderful idea, many, many thanks.

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