In January 1941 with the Liverpool Blitz at its height, twelve-year-old Billy Whitfield was evacuated to live on a farm without running water or electricity in the rural town of Bridgnorth, Shropshire, an event that was to shape him for the rest of his life. In the same year, his elder brother Eric volunteered to join the RAF, subsequently serving as a flight engineer in Bomber Command, the most dangerous of the Allied Services. <br> <br>Based on the true story of these two brothers and their contrasting experiences during the Second World War, Billy, Eric & Adolf is a tale of courage, innocence and love, a poignant, funny and moving account of ordinary lives impacted by extraordinary times. <br> <br>"The newspaper headline read more like a plot line from an episode of Dad’s Army. <br>‘Hitler wanted sleepy Bridgnorth to be Nazi HQ after the invasion of Britain.’ <br>I laughed out loud... surely not? Innocently searching the internet for wartime photographs of the Shropshire town, I had inadvertently uncovered one of life’s unexpected ironies. The article, from the Daily Telegraph 21st April 2005, explained that newly discovered secret papers had revealed Bridgnorth as Adolf Hitler’s preferred choice for the headquarters of Nazi GB after a successful invasion of the British mainland. The town’s central location, the nearby RAF base, the fortification possibilities from its unusual ‘town on a hill’ geography, all contributed to earmark the place as ideal. The documents proved that German invasion plans were still up and running one year after the Luftwaffe’s Battle of Britain setback. They were dated 1941, the same year that my dad was evacuated away from the dangers of the Liverpool Blitz… and yes, he was sent to Bridgnorth. The absurdity of the young, twelve-year-old Billy Whitfield escaping the bombings by relocating to the town Adolf had chosen to make his home from home appealed to my sense of fun. <br>The idea for a book about my dad’s wartime experiences arose from conversations with him that were increasingly veering in the direction of Bridgnorth. My mum would ask about a family matter, while my old man talked at the same time about catching rabbits or fruit-picking in the Shropshire countryside as a lad. He asked me one day if I would write up his reminiscences, and I agreed. <br>We set up a routine of visiting the local Wetherspoons every Monday evening - yes I know that sounds more like Community Service - my dad drinking mild and dredging his memory for anything he could recall from nearly seventy five years ago, while I downed Diet Pepsi and scribbled frantic notes. I had expected to compile a few anecdotal recollections of times gone by, something nostalgic to its core, but nothing much else. However, both my dad and I were about to be taken by surprise. <br>One name kept cropping up during our discussions, his brother Eric. He was five years older than my dad and therefore lived a very different war. While Billy enjoyed the war years growing up and learning to be independent, not least of all when living in the peace and tranquillity of the Shropshire town Adolf failed to conquer, Eric was a Royal Air Force volunteer in Bomber Command, the most dangerous place for a serviceman to be in the Second World War. The more I discovered about my uncle, the more compelling the need to tell his story as well. Billy, Eric & Adolf was born. <br>Writing the book has been quite a journey, hard work, yet a labour of love. My dad is now well into his eighties and not in the best of health, but it has been truly heartening to see how much help and comfort this endeavour has afforded him. As I narrated draft pages to him, he would sometimes laugh, sometimes cry, and sometimes drift off to another time and place.