The army recruiter probably saved George Alexander Wootton's butt.

He was young and reckless and wanted to teach 'those bloody Germans” a lesson.

George with his medals.

'I am not going to suffer this,” he said. 'The Germans had been bombing the hell out of us in London. And I thought as soon as I can, I am going to get in there and have a go at those buggers.”

So a sassy 16-year-old, hell-bent on adventure and revenge, told the recruiter he was an eligible 18. 'But he said: ‘Bugger off'. I thought that's nice.”

George ‘buggered off', but only as far as the recruiting office next door where he joined the Marines. You only had to be 17 and they bought into George's lesser lie.

Then George married his Grace Wilson, a young lady who'd ‘jived' her way into his heart on the dance floors of Chelsea. 'She could spin like a top.”

And if he was killed she would have got a pension. Young and silly but chivalrous and in love.

Then off he went to 'give it to those buggers”.

'You have made your bed, now lie in it,” was his mother's cold comfort.

But it probably wasn't the marital one she referred to. It was more than likely a metaphorical one in the biggest seaborne invasion in military history that she had in mind.

Operation Neptune on D-Day saw 2700 ships carrying landing craft and 176,000 troops across the English Channel storm ashore on a 100km front at Normandy on Northern France. And amongst them, was George Alexander Wootton.

George was the stoker driver at the helm of a 230hp landing craft, chugging at 18-20 knots, ferrying his cargo of humanity to the beachhead. Drop the ramp and into the tide they would go, into the bullet swarm, into the murderous mortar and artillery fire; into hell.

'You couldn't think about what lay ahead for them. But the guys who landed first – well, half of them got knocked off.”

Then George would head back to the carrier Invicta and do it all again. And again and again through the maelstrom.

'I wasn't frightened. You didn't think about it. You were trained and you just got on with it.”

But he did think about. And he would again think about the gruff army recruiter, who snubbed him – and he would think very kindly of the man.

'I was lucky because if he had let me join the army I probably would have been one of the poor buggers on the beach.”

And the scale of ‘poor' is staggering.

More than 425,000 Allied and German troops were killed, wounded or missing during the Battle of Normandy.

And here's George, 72 years later, very alive and very well, sitting in the sun at Mount Maunganui, near another beach which hasn't seen anything more violent than a storm. And he's reminiscing.

'It never really affected me,” he says. But it did. And still does.

'Big bloody heaps of bodies on the beach.” It's an 18-year-old's enduring memory of war. His personal torment.

'The burial parties would have to pile the bodies up on the beach so they could get the vehicles and soldiers ashore. Poor devils. Just piled up.”

He stops and thoughtfully strokes a lined brow.

'Thank God I didn't join that lot. Helluva bloody thing.”

Worse for the despot though. Hitler suddenly found himself engaged in two major campaigns on two major and different fronts. Neither of which he had the resources nor the appetite for. Beginning of the end for the Reich.

Operation Neptune, The Normandy Landings, on D-Day on June 6, 1944, had a major impact on the Allied drive towards Berlin and would bring World War II to an earlier close.

Then 74 years later an official-looking package would arrive at George's front door in Ranch Rd, a world away from Normandy, in Mount Maunganui.

'Dear Mr Wootton. This is part of an important campaign launched by the President recognising those who fought for the liberation of France and her people.” A personal note from the Ambassador of France to New Zealand, Mrs Florence Jeanblanc-Risler.

It was the ‘Order national de la Legion d'honneur' – the Legion of Honour – a medal founded by Bonaparte in 1802 and awarded by the French president himself. The highest French order rewarding military and civil service to France. And this one bearing the name George Alexander Wooton.

'It's good,” says George. He understates things.

'It's good they're speaking up all these years later. Mind you they took a hammering, they had a lot of things to worry about.”

The Legion of Honour citation continued. 'You bravely left your home to take part in the war and Normandy Beach landing. Our country wishes to honour the bravery you demonstrated.”

The marine has a different take on it. 'You just do what's required of you at the time. You do what you are trained to do and you think you are doing the right thing.”

Almost a year to the day later, 11.01am on May 7, 1945, the streets of London were filled with people partying. Bands played, flags flew and fireworks exploded. Hitler was dead and Germany had signed the surrender documents, ending six years of the world's bloodiest ever conflict. Guns fell silent. And George returned to his bride, to the dance halls, to the ruins and became a London bobby.

He emigrated in 1953 and became a military policeman in New Zealand, a 'fun career” that would take him to new wars – Vietnam and Malaysia.

'I was Kiwi Keith's [former New Zealand Prime Minister Keith Holyoake] personal body guard in Vietnam. When LBJ [United States president Lyndon B Johnson] toured he had three companies of marines looking after him.”

And with time, with much thought and travel though Europe, came forgiveness and reconciliation.

'Germans are just people. The Nazis were bad bastards and we had a few of them too. It was a war and we were all into it. At the time we didn't like Germans but I have since been to Germany and they were quite happy. They were just people. Just people.”

Now George is 90 – lean, fit and devilish. He runs round the block daily and does 60 to 80 sit-ups. That's a regimen people half his age would struggle with.

He doesn't drink but doesn't preach. 'I left the officer's club one night and couldn't remember how I got home.” He decided dancing was his tipple from thereon in.

On May 7-8, ex-marine George Alexander Wootton, will officially receive his Legion of Honour medal at a special ceremony at the BOP Military Vehicle Show and VE Day Celebration at The Historic Village.

That weekend marks the anniversary of VE Day. And 72 years after the event, the French are celebrating that George Alexander Wootton, in his own special way, made a significant and brave contribution to that victory and the freedom of a people.

The Military Vehicle Show to celebrate VE Day is at The Historic Village on May 7-8 from 9.30am to 3pm.

There will be a vehicle parade, historic films, children's jeep rides, vintage cars, silver band and pipe band.

People are encouraged to arrive in 1940s costume with two-day judging and a prize each day. Entry is FREE.