On Remembrance Sunday, I think of my gardening hero (dad) more than usual. When World War Two started he was still a boy so joined the home-guard. When he turned 18 he was sent off to serve his country. Solace in the Garden He only told our mum a few of the horrors that he’d witnessed. No wonder he took solace in his precious garden. Grateful to be alive, having left friends where they lay on foreign soils. He was never happier than when he was in his gardening clothes, digging his vegetable patch and tending his flowers. Just like Monty Don his faithful dog was never far away. I…