(Another story he told me, just weeks before he died, was about a roadblock. ) After the Irgun hung the two Sergeants in the Olive Groves he said he was on a roadblock searching for the murderers. (I think he said a Flight Lt. by the name of Garstang/Garston(?) was in command. )
A car careered through and as they all stood, surprised and stupefied (what kind of maniac risks driving atween 3 Bren carriers?) that Flt. Lt. calmly said, "well, don't just stand there, open fire." Anyway Dad reckoned to survive was miraculous, but I think everyone did! (He reckoned they all tried to escape some time later, and all died resisting recapture. Mind you, I don’t think that last sentence is really publishable!!!!)
That is probably "traceable" I'm sure he wasn't the only one still alive to corroborate that!!
 

(My favorite, and it isn't "exact" is:) 
While out on yet another patrol or convoy escort the "terrorists", (don't think they knew which side, Arab or Jew) fired on the convoy of three ton “Garries”. (Garries, it seems, were the slang nickname for the three-tonner lorries) Dad said the one thing he remembered was something like, F10233/44560/AEFB/2!  “What the hell is that?” I asked, "the chassis number of the lorry I hid under!" he said!!!  Not TOO good a piece of cover, 'cos he found himself in VERY close proximity to the fuel tank!!! 
Still, even if he was shooting a line, it's a bloody good story!!! 

 Some time before the Old Man and his mates came home to demob, they were waiting in a camp (Lydda???) to embark for home. It seems they had a kick-about between what Dad called "The Netty" (Geordie for toilet!) and the outer fence. This was a double fence of razor and wire netting. Between the inner and outer fence was a strip of sand, a few yards wide. Outside the base a sign, in however many languages, read "MINES KEEP OUT" of summat similar. Weeeeelll this "match" had been played out many times with many opposing teams, over many months. The ball, of course, often went "over the wire" and various blokes (don't think they called themselves "Rocks" or "Rockapes" then) dived through the "impenetrable" barrier.  HOWEVER, on this particular night, the ball REALLY DID hit a mine!!!  Several tanned, not to say bronzed faces, it seems, turned deathly white when they realised THEY had been in there to collect the ball. 
No one, of course, believed the "mines" notice! That was just to keep the locals out!!!! 
 

Returning from Palestine in late 1947, Dad & his unit were on board a troopship.This took the usual shortest route home and they found themselves in Italy. Now Italy at that time was hardly a wealthy nation. But the locals had things like wine, cheeses and fresh fruit and veg. The “currency” was tabs. (For the non-Geordie amongst us, they are ciggies!) Some of the “wide boys” had engineered a way of reducing the amount of tabs in the tins. Let me explain, at that time the tabs were Capstan, full strength packed in 50’s. These were round, sealed tins of, as I said, fifty.But the mob had found that by splitting the seam on the side of the tin, losing a few tabs in so doing, they would remove the majority and could then repack the tin with whatever was to hand so it felt full.