On war: On the night before the Armistice, the soldiers at the front grabbed hold of anything that would make a noise – to celebrate, you see. They let off stray shells, Verey lights and whatnot. A lot of men, some who'd been right through the war, didn't make it through the night.

On love: I've only ever kissed one girl: my Dorothy. We met in 1915 and married in 1918. She died in 1970. I never gave my cherry away when I went to the front. I know a lot of men who did.

On health: Superstition's not for me. And I'm not much for medicine either. I know my mind and my body better than anyone else.

On faith: I can see why people fall out with religion. I last took communion in 1918. The Salvation Army were waiting for the boys to come out of the trenches. 'Cup of tea, soldier?' Yes please. 'There you go, son.' The Church Army had set up a quarter of a mile away: 'Cup of tea, soldier?' Yes please. 'Penny!' I didn't like that. They had all the money.

On care homes: Hang on to your independence. I lived on my own until three years ago, when I went into a home. I'm very grateful, but I don't like relying on other people.

On victory: I was on a spotter ship sent out to Jutland. We saw these shells skimming across the sea, but we didn't know we'd been in a big battle until the next day, when the church bells rang out in Great Yarmouth to celebrate a naval victory. And I didn't know it was a victory either!

On food: You can't beat jellied eels from the Norfolk Broads.

On young people: Children today are a sight: they're so big, and confident! It's a shame they grow up so fast.

On education: If I have one regret, it's that I never had the chance to go to university. I'd still like to get an engineering degree.

On the future: I don't mind if my future is long or short, as long as I'm doing the right thing. And as long as I behave for other people.