Britain's oldest surviving First World War veteran celebrated the first day of his 110th year with the words: "It's just another day for me".

Henry Allingham turned 109 yesterday and partied with friends in his home town of Eastbourne. The war hero, who in 2003 received the Legion d'Honneur, France's highest military award, said the secret of life was to "know your limitations."

Mr Allingham, who became the first of the nation's veterans to receive the Ministry of Defence's new Veteran's Badge, is one of about only 20 surviving soldiers of the Great War.

At the party at the Hydro Hotel he received a birthday card from the Mayor of Eastbourne, Graham Marsden, and a cake made local school children.

He said: "I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be here today being so well looked after but I'm beginning to like it."

Mr Allingham, who served in the Royal Navy Air Services fighting at the third battle of Ypres and at the Somme, is now deaf but can recall events throughout his life with extraordinary ease.

He said: "I can remember the Christmas after the Armistice. I was introduced to two German children who wished me a happy Christmas and thanked me. I didn't know what to say.

"I had two jaffa oranges with me, which were like gold dust, and so I gave them one each. They couldn't believed their luck. I often wonder if they can recall the soldier who gave them those oranges."

Mr Allingham believes in avoiding stress is the key. He said: "I don't know if there is a secret of life but keeping within your capacity is vital.

"I've had two major breakdowns, one during the war and one after, both when I was trying to do the work of three men. "

Originally from London, Mr Allingham trained as a mechanic after volunteering for service in 1914, aged 18.

He was sent to the Western Front, carrying out vital repairs to the aircraft, including the Sopwith Camel that came to play such a vital role in the war.

At Ypres it was the lines of men waiting to go over the top to almost certain death that haunts him. He said: "They would just stand in two feet of water in mud-filled trenches, waiting to go forward. They knew what was coming. It was pathetic to see those men like that. In many ways I don't think they have ever got the admiration and respect they deserved."