This man, a citizen of Arnhem, but as it happens, of British descent (hence the surname) chatted away to us in the bar, as he supped on his Dutch brandy (as good as Cognac, he informed us, but a quarter of the price and I would certainly agree, as I myself finished off the night with the self same tipple). He had been a toddler in the War and he still recalls in 1945 watching the swarms of British and American bombers on their way East to attack Germany. He recalls his father at this time, standing in their back garden, looking towards the skies, screaming encouragement to the bombers.