Clothes Don’t Maketh The Boy.

When growing up.
We as a family were poor.
So to make ends meet.
My mother would buy our clothes.
Out of a cheap Second World War ex military clothing store.
I used to bloody hate it.
Because some days.
I would go to school dressed.
As a German luftwaffe Messerschmitt pilot.
Or as a Japanese general.
Or a Royal Navy admiral.
Or a Russian front line soldier.
Or a french resistance fighter.
Or as an American GI.
One things for sure.
I was a good advertisement.
For the United Nations.