India, May 9 -- Amongst my fondest memories are evenings spent on the terrace of our old farm in Chhatarpur, listening to Daddy reminisce about his days in the army as he sipped his first drink. To my teenage ears, places like Kohat, Quetta and Loralai seemed to belong to another world. Even Ambala, where he commanded 4 Div in the 1950s, appeared exotic. These were stories of a time long past. Of nostalgia and history. Yet they became vivid in his telling of them.

My favourite was when my parents were presented at Court in the late 1930s. George the VI was King Emperor, Daddy was a young captain and Mummy a new bride. As they lined up in one of the palace's ante-rooms, to be received by the British sovereign, an equerry mistook Mummy's p...