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Great War stories also relevant, so thanks for sharing those. For me that goes to great-grandfather level, Gassed in the first gas attack near Ieper but survived. Problem with tracing WW1 action is that only the dead were catalogued. We tried his regmt history but could not trace anything useful.
If you ever get the chance to read the forgotten voices series of books they are well worth it. Great Uncle (one of those 'uncles' who is not really an uncle though) was a Chindit, the Forgotten voices of Burma book is something to behold. To think these guys were out doing that stuff in their twenties is quite incredible.
He apparently got a lot of 'shit' from the locals for being a coward as he was of age to sign up and go and fight but, as he was a farm worker and knew the layout of the local land, he was asked by a recruitment sergeant to join the Auxiliers. It was all done in total secrecy and they trained in secret and lived in underground bunkers. They were trained to kill in hand to hand combat, acts of sabotage and, if the Germans did invade, they were expected to live maximum of 2 weeks before they would be found out and executed.
Last year, a local history society actually held a dig and uncovered his operational base which I went and filmed.
http://www.coleshillhouse.com/bromyard-jacob-auxiliary-unit-patrol.php
(formerly miserneil)
I had a large family of great uncles who all served, and at the hairy end - one was at Arnhem for example and was in the small group that fought his way out.
All bar one - who was a 'radio operator' and on occasion, because he was the youngest - after the drink flowed they'd rib baby brother about not having done anything.
Came out just before his death he had indeed been a radio operator, but behind Japanese lines with the Chindits! Never said a word about it.
My great grandfather died from wounds in 1968 he got in the first world war - was gassed, bayoneted whilst hanging on barbed wire, had a hole in his face from a plug of ice flying up from the ground (from a bullet) and shrapnel (which killed him in the end) in his back from being caught in a machine gun crossfire.
Came back with all this and because his heel was shot off - lost his job as a farm labourer.
Made ends meet with poaching and getting paid by medical students to inspect his wound scars and damage.
Unbelievable
On my Dad's side, he was apparently a mechanic on Lancasters. When he died, we found out he was actually at Bletchley. Apparently he used to have a lot of problems because when he was stopped while moving around the UK (happned a couple of times), he couldn't tell the Police what he did, but could only give them a phone number to ring.
My great granddad, mums side served during WW2. He was a royal engineer, spent most of the war over in Italy building/repairing bridges. Guess it also included the makeshift tank bridges for getting them over ditches etc.
He passed away about 6 years ago and I regret never asking him more about it all as I'm fully fascinated by war and WW2. But he often would babysit us, I'd sit playing with my toy soldiers and he would tell me stuff. Most of it I remember being tactical.. For example I had a tank and I pretended its tracks were blown off, but I kept it in battle because its guns weren't hit.. He would explain why that's silly! I didn't have the capacity to think 'oops, its now a sitting duck/rocket magnet, better get the soldiers out!'
I remember staging D-day landings and allsorts, with the marble fireplace base being the beach... Must have been weird for him to observe now I think about it. I remember asking him loads of stuff but as I was a kid I hardly remember any of it. I do remember playing with the mortar troops, and he told me a story about it which he found amusing.
He was with his company near the base of some mountainous/hilly areas (I presume in Italy). I remember him saying they had been there a while, waiting for something, but they had supply trucks with them so made a little camp and rested up. Next thing he knew he heard the whistling of incoming mortar shells. They were being bombarded from somewhere up in the hills. He said how he ran and dived for cover under one of the supply trucks with a fellow engineer.. and within seconds they were looking at each other and saying 'this is a bloody stupid place to take cover'.
That's all I remember.. So annoying!
Anyway he passed on to me a couple of his possessions (which once I was old enough my mum gave to me). Below are his Standard Army Issue multi-knife (well used) and his RAF Police Baton. I'm not sure whether he was RAF Police before or after the Royal Engineers.
I wish he was still here. I know he wouldn't want to talk much about the war, but I'd want to learn so much!
In later life he sadly developed alzhiemers (sp?) and pancreatic cancer. I remember me and mum caring for him, and he was relocated to a more secure care home which specialised in mental health. We used to sneak his favourite bitter beers in for him. I was maybe 16 or so at the time. I remember him not knowing who we were, but as he would always confuse us with other people from his past he always atleast felt safe.. I hope.
As his mental health deteriorated, and he started sort of living in the past, he would often try to warn us of the enemy when we visited. We asked what he meant, and he would say 'these Japs, theyre keeping me here, help me escape'.
Well, there was a few Chinese and Asian carers, and a couple of Japanese staff too. Also all the doors were double secure, so he obviously thought he was a POW, and was living in the WW2 days.
They all understood and wasn't offended, as it obviously wasn't his fault, and none of us knew what he may have experienced in the war either.
He was a bloody strong man though and we did worry he would attempt an escape, and if he believed the staff there were in fact enemy soldiers, well he could have hurt them!
Nothing however happened... until one night.
A phone call came in.
Mum answered.
'Walters gone missing'
Forget the 'how the hell did he escape from a secure hospital in the sticks?!', we were more worried about finding him.
Anyway, the Police picked him up the next morning at his local boozer in Barking, the Robin Hood. Some 15 or so miles away! The owner knew him well from his many years of drinking there and being concerned had called it in... as he was only wearing a dressing gown and slippers. Not a penny on him but a few free bitters to keep him looked after from the owner. I remember being absolutely inspired and in awe. He had obviously remembered escape and evasion and did bloody well to navigate country roads and at night too, and march all those miles at his age, all the while remembering where his pub was! Of course he had no idea what he'd done, and was confused and upset when we explained. He just thought he was out as normal at the pub.
I always admire him for that though. Soldier til the end.
I treasure these things. Wish they could talk. Army Issue Knife and RAF Police baton. Raf Police written inside the leather wrist strap. Well used Army Issue Knife, stamped with the British Army crows foot symbol and stamped 1941.
Before that he cheated death after a bullet skimmed the top of his head.
I have his photo albums, demob papers and a silk Japanese flag that his gang have signed just like in 'The Pacific'.
He worked in our local cinema most of his life and started as a page boy there in 1941. Each week the MOD would send photographs to be displayed in the cinema foyer (public space) for propaganda purposes, and my dad saved them all. I've got those too in a big ring binder along with the press releases that came with them. Some are pretty brutal- bombing raids, destruction, bodies. Some of the aviation shots are stunning. They are out of Crown Copyright now but not sure I'd part with them.
My grandad himself applied to be an air gunner but was working in the shipyards so was reserved occupation. I remember being a bit disappointed as a child, but as I grew up I realised how lucky I was that he worked where he did.
I paid a one off membership to this site late last year: https://www.forces-war-records.co.uk
If was invaluable in getting information on where Grandad was during the war as, by the time I had any interest in it, my Nan had passed away and he never really spoke to my dad about it either. VERY interesting site if anyone wishes to delve a bit deeper.
(formerly miserneil)
I'm most proud of my great-great-uncle Bill, who was a CO in the Second World War. He was from a poor family and managed to obtain a sponsor for his studies in Oxford and Yale. The sponsorship pretty much ended the instant his CO status was discovered, his sponsor being from a prominent Army family. He went on to choose Welsh over English which also condemned him to lifelong poverty. He was partly responsible for Thatcher's about-turn on her broken promise to establish a Welsh-language TV channel.
My feedback thread is here.
Grandad on my Dad's side was a draftsman, and continued to do that in WW2. I don't know what industry he was in but whatever his job was, he was asked to keep doing it.
On my mum's side, my other Grandad (still alive) was a mechanic in the RAF, mostly working on transport planes. He was never stationed overseas, but did fly to France once. He made me laugh a couple of years ago, when he said he recently drove past RAF Duxford and recognised one of the planes you can see from the motorway as being an actual airframe he serviced. I wonder what it's like seeing something that was once cutting edge forgotten in the corner of a museum...
OTOH, I've married into glory - My FIL's Dad fought through Europe in '44 and '45, and after the war was stationed in Berlin for a couple of years. Wife and I visited him in hospital a few months before he passed away, and he opened up with a bunch of anecdotes including throwing a grenade into a hornet's nest for a laugh. MIL's dad was high up in the Civil Service, I imagine whatever he was doing was important...
Edit: Dad's dad was 16 when the war started, must ask dad what he was doing that meant he didn't need to go and fight. Mum's dad was born in '33, his RAF service was after the war.
Bandcamp
Spotify, Apple et al
Balls the size of planets.
My Paternal Grandfather was a well known East End / North London face in a Peaky Blinders way - he spent most of WW2 in prison as he was one of the principal controllers of Black Market goods and owned a Pink and Grey Rolls Royce ( colours chosen to please my grandmother )
My maternal Grandfather was quite the opposite -RAF officer and Gentleman of High standing .
When my posh but relatively non-wealthy Grandfather told my other Grandfather that he found the Pink Rolls " Nouveau Riche
The other grandfather replied ......." Yeah , but better Nouveau Riche than Never Riche ! "
My parents were from very different backgrounds .
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernst_Reuter
Royal Engineers and 51st highland division.
Cant imagine what they saw or had to do but they both stepped up and I'm immensely proud.
RIP Gerry and Alec. X
This is his story here ...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/remembrance/wall/record/8925