R. A. Miller, born in Cuba in 1920 or thereabouts. Everyone who might remember tidbits of his history are long dead. There are no parish records. A quiet, studious, serious boy. Orphaned before he was 10. Sent to live on the charity of relatives. Was kept out of school to work as a labourer. Lied about his age to fight for the British Empire in Africa. He’d talk about the heat and flies, but not the friends who died beside him. The war destroyed much more than his innocence. He was my mother’s Beloved. He tried, he really tried to be a good husband and father but he was broken and turned inwards. Without the compass of loving life experiences, he had no emotional…

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