Our Dad – George Lane Born in Liverpool in 1923 at a time when there was considerable blurring of family lines due to the harsh economic climate in that period between the two World Wars. George was raised by Robert and Jane along with his sisters and brought up in the bustling city environment, one that he spoke of fondly, often recalling the Mersey dockside and the ocean going liners and cargo ships; a fascination that turned into a life time love which was born at those dockyards in the company of his father. These were hard times and working lives started young, often at the expense of the schooling but George had a sharp intellect, was well read and had an appetite for learning, which he possessed throughout his long life. I can recall trying, but failing, to explain how the Internet worked when we sat at the computer researching some fact or other that conversation had thrown up. All too soon the shadow of war fell across the country and George very nearly followed a friend into the Merchant Navy, but some last minute premonition prevented him fortuitously from doing so. The ship he would have sailed on was lost at sea on its voyage out of Liverpool. Still with an eye for the sea George joined the Royal Marines in 1941 at Exmouth. His active service saw him fight in North Africa with the 5th army under General Montgomery. Having earned his Africa Star medal he fought his way through Italy (gaining the Italian Star), France and Germany (awarded Campaign medals for both as well as the Defence and the General war medal) his active service culminating in the liberation of Norway where he personally captured a German officer who he interrupted during his morning ablutions. George would have participated in the D Day landings but acute appendicitis saw him hospitalised but he probably needed a rest by then anyway. He talked well of the experiences he had amongst his friends and comrades during those dark days including losing his regiment, having overslept they had gone on without him and left George scouring the lines of troops trying to find them. It was grudgingly that he allowed Jane to pursue his entitled war medals of which he always held “if they were not going to give them to me properly I don’t want them at all”. I think secretly he was rather proud of them although sadly we could never convince him to attend the Remembrance Day Parades and take his deserved place of honour. If the Marines did not make George fit then his courtship of his beloved wife to be Marion certainly did. This in a time when jogging was not a pastime but a mode of travel – he had met Marion at a dance following her evacuation from Kent, he quickly made up his mind she was the one for him and convinced her when he demonstrated his devotion by regularly running to and from North Wales and back to Liverpool (with his kit bag on his back) in order to spend time with her. George was discharged in 1946 and with his new wife settled in Liverpool, but in an extensive period of rebuilding across the country and with a depleted labour market George and Marion relocated with the promise of better opportunities to a place called Stanstead Abbotts, Hertfordshire. Again I can recall George telling me that they believed they were moving to Hampshire but having arrived and liking what they saw decided to stay, they were obviously quite a carefree couple. Back in civi street George made his living predominantly as a postman although he had previously tried mining as one of the ‘Bevin boys’ and working in a paint factory making Red Lead Paint. The trials and tribulations of a working life were as they are for most, but George would recall and recount many hilarious stories of some of the scrapes he got into- trying to retrieve misposted mail with pieces of chewing gum on a stick and hiding the fact that he’d tried to get the post van under a bridge it was too big for. He would reduce himself to tears as he laughed at his recollections, sometimes he was the butt of the joke, but not always - he would laugh at others misfortune too! A hard-working man, he needed to be in order to support his burgeoning family. Devoted to his daughters Julie, Sharon and Jane as he was to Marion, outnumbered 4 to 1 by the women in his life he had to be a strict but equally loving father. He could be a contrary man, coming from a family of staunch Everton supporters he naturally grew up to support their arch rivals Liverpool, which was an enigma to the whole family. He would regularly watch football on TV in total silence not wishing the commentators rhetoric to spoil his viewing. A supporter of the underdog he detested bullying in any form and would say his piece when it needed saying unafraid of any of the audience who heard it. He was though a very polite and charming man, he had a few true friends, not that he was anti social in any way - but he was more than happy with his own company and that of his family. He was a selfless man and gave uncomplainingly to his family, ferrying his daughters and their friends to and from pubs, clubs and venues earned him the pseudonym of ‘George Cabs’ and how grateful we have all been of this service. Tolerant of the wide variety of fashion trends, hairstyles and diets he saw come and go, he was convinced that many were just passing fads and still offered his daughter Jane a pork pie or ham sandwich even though she has been a vegetarian for over 25 years. The passing of Marion was a hammer blow to the whole family but George lost not only his wife and daughters’ mother, but his soul mate and I cannot imagine that a day went passed that he did not think of her, and now they are reunited once more. I first met George 15 years ago. I was filled with some trepidation of meeting my future father in law but quickly he made me welcome into his family. A family that he told me he was so very proud of, from his grandchildren he took great pleasure and never tired of being with them. He did worry incessantly about everyone and everything but I guess that was just his caring nature. I recall when we had redecorated his house how he afterwards laid out stepping stones of newspaper so as not to dirty or wear the carpet and how he guarded the new sofa from the cats scratching with a defensive wall of carpet scraps and towels. Sadly George has gone now. Peacefully and painlessly. He has set us an example in life, which we will aspire to follow. He has left us with many memories that we will fondly cherish and recall in the days and years ahead. Gone but never forgotten we thank you for all you have been to us Father, Grandfather, brother, uncle and friend for all that you have done . God bless and may you rest in peace.