The Douglas Albert was our getaway vehicle until early 2016.
It was named after our fathers, who we respected and adored. Even though they never met, we know they would’ve been friends…
My dad Douglas and Frank’s dad Albert dedicated their lives to raising their families. They were two amazing blokes who lived in an era where an honest day’s work was what defined you.
They both served in World War II and were among the lucky ones to make it home.
My dad was a ship’s engineer in the British Merchant Navy, and Frank’s dad was a young Aussie Digger who ended up as a prisoner of war (POW) in South Timor.
They rarely spoke about those days or about themselves all that much. They were both so humble, yet to us they were – and always will be – heroes.
Both of them would have loved to have a campervan and to take off on the road. Time and obligation kept them grounded, and they never got the chance.
…so we’re doing it for them. First, in the Douglas Albert – and soon in our Troopy (now that EB has worked his magic on it!).
If our dads were alive to see it, they’d shake their heads and smile. You crazy kids, they’d say. But deep down, they’d be just a bit proud.
Here’s to two great blokes… our dads.
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