Dad’s legacy of love
Standing on top of Senlac Hill in Hastings, I took my place in front of the camera.
‘Three…two… one… Action!’ my dad Martin, then 39, said in his best director’s voice.
It was April 2000 and my homework was on the Battle of Hastings.
Most other kids in my class would’ve been spending their Easter holidays writing essays.
Not me!
‘That would be boring!’ Dad had told me.
So, instead, he filmed me doing a news report on the historical battle,
