Special Guest Blogger: Adrian Carton de Wiart

People called me the 'the unkillable soldier' but as we know, no soldier is unkillable but i was certainly hard to kill as my record includes being shot in the face, head, stomach, ankle, leg, hip and ear and a couple of plane crashes, an escape from a POW camp and a self-inflicted amputation but i will give you the short version.
Born in Belgium, I was sent to England to learn a proper British education and was preparing for a career in law but that was interrupted by the Second Boer Conflict and the British Army needed boots on the ground so i volunteered and got the first of my bullet holes, one in the stomach and one in the groin.
These injuries didn’t slow me down though and luckily for me the start of the century was a great time for the British Army and then 1914 happened and a return to duty and another bullet wound, this time, during an attack on an enemy fort in Somaliland, i got shot in the ear and face and lost my left eye.
It did get me a natty eyepatch and moved out of Africa and into Europe though and that's where the real action was and at Ypres my hand got shattered by a German shell and in the medical tent the doctor refused to amputate my fingers so i tore them off myself although my self amputation skills were not up to snuff and i got sent back to England to have my whole hand amputated properly.
After recovering from my latest round of injuries, I managed to convince a medical board that, even without a left eye and left hand, I was fit for service and went on to lead the charge at the Battle of the Somme where i got shot in the back of the head.
Once again sent home to recover, I survived to get shot again, this time in the hip, one in leg and another through my ear at Arras so i was getting quite a metal collection back home.
I was sent to Poland in a diplomatic role but still managed to crash a plane and get captured by Lithuanian forces and on release by them i spent the next 15 years living on an Estate in relative peace until Soviet forces invaded and by then WW2 was kicking off.
Despite now being 60, I came out of retirement and returned to service as the head of the British-Yugoslavian Mission and traveled to Cairo to begin negotiations. As per usual, however, I had to add some drama to this adventures and en route, my plane crashed into the sea off the coast of Italian-controlled Libya and I managed to swim ashore only to wind up in the hands of the enemy Italian authorities.
Held as a POW, I tried to escape numerous times and i thought my goose was cooked when they took me to Rome but it was to return to England with a message of a proposed peace treaty.
I ended my time living in China but not before yet yet another plane that fell out of the sky from which i walked away from but in the end i had tempted fate one too many times and bullets and plane crashed couldn't kill me but a flight of stairs almost did, slipping on coconut mat and breaking several vertebrae so i took to living in Ireland until my last days which rather boringly, was a plain old heart attack.