Charles, my brother, was born, raised and eventually brought to peace in London, a city he loved so much.

From the time he was a little child, Charles wanted to be a soldier. He didn't go to school - our parents were poor and needed help around the house, and they didn't much care about what people called education.

He was drafted when he was 17, and I have no idea how he did it. It was towards the end of WW2, and he fought as a simple foot soldier against the Nazis.

After being released from the army because of a broken arm and a bad attitude, he went on to college. He was thrown out of there too. He finally opened up a fish-and-chips shop in the center of the city.

He married Jane in 1956, and they had two beautiful baby girls.

There's not much more to say. He liked working in the shop, and I would visit him about once a year, as I was living in America at the time. I was notified of his death day after it happened. They told me he died peacefully, in his sleep.