Within months he was driving big lorries and cranes in the Battle of Britain, recovering crashed planes. He went on to the North African Western Desert, Egypt, Libya, Tunis and El Alamein. From there to Italy: Naples, Monte Cassino, invasion of Sicily. Then Corsica followed by France, landing near St Tropez in the D-Day of the South. Finally after four years abroad, back to the UK, a wedding and release from the RAF. Along the way he was blown up, bombed, burnt, and ill.He was not one of the commanders, or the shooting and bombing action heroes. He was responsible for the transport that contributed to everything else being possible. He tells of the problems in organising vehicles, keeping them on the road, repairing, bodging, cannibalising, improvising and inventing. This is the not often heard voice of an ordinary young bloke going through a terrible time, and doing what he could. That surely makes him a hero too.

    There’ve been big highs, but a fair share of lows too. When I have to make difficult decisions, I make a point of avoiding newspapers, phone-ins, Twitter – all of it. But there’s always a load of armchair-pundits waiting to start on me. Being a manager has never been easy, but between the fans and the media it often feels impossible to get it right.In It Shouldn’t Happen to a Manager, I talk about how different the job is now from what it was like when I used to play. For one, managers used to drive up and down motorways all day to scout for players – now there’s so much analysis and global scouting. It’s a different thing, completely. In this book, I share everything I’ve learnt from a lifetime of both wins and losses, and wisdom from greats like Cloughie and Ferguson. I’ll tell you about what actually happens in the dressing room, including when Clough smashed the door off its hinges; the bust-ups at full-time, like when I kicked a tray of sandwiches on Don Hutchinson’s head; and the times when I had to swap an arm round a player’s shoulder for a boot up the arse. It’s my guide to being a manager, the Harry way.

    Stirring speeches to rapt juries, triumphant press interviews and enormous fees paid by grateful clients. He can see it all. But unfortunately, he has reckoned without Judge 'Bonkers' Clarke, The Honourable Mr 'Sourpuss' Boniface and a range of other equally terrifying, grumpy and borderline insane judges - not to mention tricky solicitors, bent coppers and dodgy defendants.