In 1943/44 when the Russians and their BFF the Germans had a minor falling out, and things were not going too well for them, they gave ‘permission’ for the Poles to set up an Army to help the Allies. This Polish Army was established in Northern Africa (The Germans and Russians having eradicated the Polish Army in Poland), and having had enough of the pleasures of a winter holiday and feeling that they could do with a bit of sun, dad and his family made the two/three month move to Iran Persia and Palestine (at the time arguably belonging to the Arabs but under the control of the British and just before it was presented to the Jewish nation and became Israel). Dad was fortunately too young to actually fight and as such spend the war in the Cadets. One of the few stories that Dad has actually told me is that in July 1946 when he was in Jerusalem, that he was suspected and arrested for the King David Hotel bombing. It wasn’t just dad, the British basically arrested any ‘foreigner’, and after a couple of nights in the local jail, he was released. They finally believed that he had indeed been at the cinema when the bomb went off. Dad put this down to an early case of ‘racial profiling’ by the British police, and remembers being confused as he remembered thinking that Polish sounded nothing like Arabic, but he did have a good suntan so it was understandable