Birdsong…
F1 is in Austria this weekend, and I’m awake far too early, listening to birdsong. It’s 04.50. My late father was a clergyman and he had a strange job each year on this day: he was the chaplain of the Lochnagar mine crater, near the village of La Boisselle on the Somme. One hundred years […]
F1 is in Austria this weekend, and I’m awake far too early, listening to birdsong. It’s 04.50. My late father was a clergyman and he had a strange job each year on this day: he was the chaplain of the Lochnagar mine crater, near the village of La Boisselle on the Somme. One hundred years […]
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