One last story of my fathers deadly escapades. I vaguely remember another story from my childhood where a vehicle he was in ran over a mine which didn’t explode but I’ll need to check the details when I meet him again later this week.
On one occasion, he was walking through the town in his civilian clothes but armed with a Beretta pistol when he heard the sound of nearby gunfire coming from around the next corner. He pulled out his pistol and ran towards the corner but suddenly stopped. To this day, he has no idea what possessed him to holster his weapon and walk nonchalantly around the corner where he was confronted by several terrorists only metres away armed with sub-machine guns pointed in his direction. They had been shooting up a police station and were in the process of escaping when they confronted my father.
Dad had black hair and was very suntanned and had a dark complexion anyway and the terrorists stared at him for a few moments before quickly disappearing presuming him to be a local. That, along with the fact that he was in civvies, ostensibly unarmed and walking saved his life.
You think a guy with that kind of luck could win the lottery every week, but alas, that was never to be!
You Dad had that “little voice” in his head. And he always heeded it. A very smart man.
I think Dad won the life lottery, can’t ask for more than that.