My Grandfather lost a leg to a motorcycle accident in 1944/1945. He was riding the while line past a military convoy in the UK as a dispatch rider when unfortunately he met someone doing the same in the opposite direction.
He had a succession of prosthetic legs, the technology was always improving but one thing he said never changed: The clinics were always full of lads in their late teens. Year after year.
He had a succession of prosthetic legs, the technology was always improving but one thing he said never changed: The clinics were always full of lads in their late teens. Year after year.