As families around the world gather to pay tribute to those brave military and civilian souls who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom and security, I share in their collective grief and celebrate the long lists of names etched into war memorials in the City of London and at home in Epping Forest.
Both of my grandparents served in the military during the Second World War. My grandmother, Irene, joined the Land Army and spent several years working in agriculture in Yorkshire. She didn’t speak a lot about that time, other than to say it was real hard graft out on the farms and that the girls all worked hard together to do their bit for King and country. Her memories of the war were more prominent once she had started to have children and had to live through the Luftwaffe’s regular bombardment of the London whilst trying to survive on rations. She was forever singing old war songs in the kitchen with us as children. She was so creative. She had a remarkable ability to “make do” by upcycling or recycling items. Nothing ever went to waste with her around. She always seemed to be sat at a sowing machine making clothes or mending them and always kept a rail in her kitchen for when someone had outgrown an outfit, so the next person could make use of it. If you ever had a problem, she was the person you’d go to. She would always find a solution!
My grandfather, William, like many young men of his day, felt a sense of duty and lied on his military application form. His date of birth was listed as the 22nd January 1923. In fact, his date of birth was actually the 2nd September 1925. He was commissioned into military service aged 15 years, 11 month and 23 days old – a fact I will never be able to fully comprehend knowing that I was very much a child at that age. His service record suggests that the period of time he volunteered for was for “the period of the present emergency”, which lasted 6 years, at the end of which, his service was extended for an additional 5 years, giving him a grand total of 11 years served in the Royal Navy.
He was trained as a telegraphist in radio communications and signalman, managing communications via morse code by observing blinking lights on passing ships, often with binoculars, and translating the code into text on the deck of the ship.
He spent time on a total of 10 Royal Navy ships including HMS Guages, HMS St. George, HMS Scotia, HMS Pembroke, HMS London, HMS Elizabeth II (Evolution), HMS Largs, HMS Spartiate, HMS Pembroke II (Franklin), HMS St. Angelo, HMS President (Whitehall).
My grandfather spent a lot of his war-time career as part of the the Artic Convoys, floating around some of the most inhospitable conditions. He spoke about comrades losing appendages to frost bite. He was also shot in the leg at some stage. The shrapnel was never removed and we could feel it moving around his leg as children. Again, typical of his generation, he never really spoke about what he saw and experienced during the war. I think it was probably a mix of a coping mechanism and the stiff upper lip that the British are renowned for. I do know that several times after the war, he would meet up with some of his old shipmates and my grandmother would tell us how they would burst into tears upon meeting, as if there was an unspoken trauma that no one could ever understand except that unique group of men who lived in close quarters for months on end in harrowing circumstances.
For his service, my grandfather was awarded 1939-1945 Star (Battle of Britain), Atlantic Star (France & Germany), Artic Star, Africa Star, Italy Star and the War Medal 1939-1945 (Oak Leaf). On 15th December 1993, he also received a letter from the Ministry of Defence stating, “I am very pleased to enclose the Commemorative Medal and Certificate issued by the Soviet Authorities to mark the 40th anniversary of the ending of the Second World War in 1945.”
My grandmother also eventually received the Land Army and Timber Corps Veteran’s Badge in 2012.
Of course, we were lucky that my grandfather returned from a war when many did not. Married to my grandmother for just shy of 50 years, he lived a long and fulfilling life. They went on to have 6 children and countless more grandchildren and great grandchildren. And every year, without fail, they would attend Remembrance Day parades and services. A tradition, I am proud to continue in their stead today.
