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.

    As the voyage steams (sweats, rather) eastward from Seattle to New York, he meets a diverse, humorous, and motley bunch of individuals in full support of his spirit of adventure, evidence that one's wildest dreams are in fact worth pursuing. The story is a testament to the power of welcoming the stranger and the good that resides in us all. Read it to laugh, read it to learn, or read it simply to remember that you are human.They say once you start pedaling you can't stop. So buckle your helmet, don spandex if you dare, and get ready for the ride of a lifetime.

    I try to tell what it was like for me and my brother Marines without fanfare or bravado and give the reader a vivid description of my 13 months.