Showing posts with label Royal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Royal. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 May 2018

V.E. Day

Seventy Three years ago, I know roughly where and what all four of my grand parents were doing... All were variously occupied fighting as part of the British effort of World War Two, I do not know whether they were aware of the cease fire or impending Victory in Europe, and indeed for one of my Grandfathers the war was not over; as he was aboard HMS Belfast, just refitting for redeployment to the far east and the on going war with the desperate but crumbling Empire of Japan.

In this post, I'll cover what little I know, to share that nugget of who these people where and what they were doing.  So from oldest to youngest.

We have my Nan, or Nanna, Kath.  She was a young woman by the end of the war, from a child at the out break, a hard beginning in life in the care system with both parents gone by wars end she was in the Land Army working the fields of Norfolk, though a native of London.  She was born in the shadow of Portobello Road, and to this day (despite living in Nottingham for over 60 years) has no qualms telling me I have a "funny accent".


As we sit on the evening of this sweltering Bank Holiday Monday, she sits in the Queens Medical Center, perhaps in the last ebb of her life.  Though she told me long ago she's not herself (suffering advanced dementia) and would rather still be plugging around in those fields even if the farmers wife was an utter bitch [her words, not mine].

This Nan, now the oldest of all of my forbares is the only one still alive, so with a ting of sadness, but always pride we turn to my other Nan.

Mabel, a professional nurse, with a specialty in Mental Health care, at the outbreak of war she soon took to serving the airfields of her native Norfolk (yes, how ironic both my grand mothers pull on the county of Norfolk, yet I've never ever been - at least not in my memory - maybe as a very young child).

As the war progressed the USAF called upon support from British medical services for the large number of airmen being injured in the 18th Airforce's Daylight bombing campaign.  Mabel was one of the few nurses directly greeting Liberator and Flying Fortress aircraft as they landed.

One particularly vivid recollection she shared was with meeting a Liberator crew and checking on the tail gunner, seeing him with his arm raised smiling nothing ill was thought.  Yet the pilot reported the young man could not be contacted.  Upon approaching more closely a line of cannon fire was obvious along the twin boom tail, splitting the emergency access open two airmen began to bundle the young gunner from his position, except he was not well, his smile was his last act, he had given his life and as they brought him forward they needed two stretchers for this young man, who's upper half now lay peaceful in the long grass his eyes piercing the very sky above.

V.E. Day saw Mabel still tending the wounded, from the daylight bombing campaign still being waged by the 8th Air Force.

More happily Mabel however had met my Grandfather George, whom had married her by special license and never let himself be parted from her all their lives, but he was at the outbreak of the war already a professional soldier, though not at Dunkirk, he was stationed in Scotland.  Famously he was the sergeant of the guard whom was in charge of Rudolf Hess when he deigned to fly to Scotland.

He had been on the 6th June 1944 on the Normandy beaches, as he had exchanged his army stripes for Royal Marine stripes and was a member of the Royal Marines Commandos, he recalled looking back after reaching the top of a French street and having lost half his men.

1945 saw him on the Western bank of the Rhein, near the first crossing of British Forces (the Black Watch carried the Union flag across the wide waters of the river) whilst the Commando's carried the Union Jack.

Finally, the movements of Les my last Grandfather, and the first to pass away, his movements can be quite clearly tagged for a large stretch of the war as he was in the Navy and only on one ship.  However, he started the war as a boy just entering his teenage years, his brothers went off into the Infantry, whilst he had to settle with the Home Guard.  And in 1939 and 1940 he was part of a crew manning a Z battery, a rocket anti-aircraft position, near Wilford in Nottingham.

Frustrated with "being left at home" however, in 1942 at fifteen (and I belief after "borrowing" details from his brother Bill's credentials, he enlisted in the Navy (unable to join the Army as Bill himself was already serving there, and the subterfuge required he join a different branch).

Basic training complete he was assigned to the company of HMS Belfast, just in time for her recommissioning; having his a magnetic mine and received a broken back the Belfast returned to the war (arguably) as Britain's most powerful cruiser.  And she remains with us today, the only large gun ship from the Royal Navy preserved for the Nation.

Indeed, he was witness to the Battle of the North Cape, about which he recalled "the Parson coming around to hand out hunks of boiled white fish and tea, the best tasting Christmas dinner after being stood in the arctic air, waiting all night for the flash of massive German guns".

He was also aboard the ship on D-Day, with the Belfast leading off the shelling on their section of the coast.  With one grandfather struggling up the beaches, another was literally off short lobbing covering fire to him; which amazes me.  However, it was not without threat on board ship, as he recalled 88mm shells fired at the ship from the French coast, with one passing clean through the forward funnel, from which he received a laceration to the forearm and one of the ships cooks lost their lives (though, my recollection maybe wrong, and this event may have taken place in 1943 in the Med verses the Italian Navy and therefore likely not an 88mm, but the cook did loose his life).

From this posting he also traveled the world, and as the war in Europe faded he had little respite as the Belfast was refitting and reconditioning, in order to sail and join the fight against the crumbling Empire of Japan, and by August 1945 he was in Sydney, Australia.


The Navy had set his skills base down as a ships electrician, however his home guard training did not go unnoticed, and he was actually a loader for a "pom-pom" gun.  This was on the left cheek of the then bridge structure - if you visit the ship today this area has been remodeled, but if ask a guide about the WW2 configuration of the ship they can explain where this battle station was.

But as a AA-gunner he did not relish the idea of facing down Japanese Kamikaze pilots, this however was to be his role, until the VJ Day.

There you go, there's a lot more detail I could add to this, if you're interested let me know in the comments below.




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Addendum:  I have never set foot on my Granddads ship, it maybe too much for me.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

Columbia Moaning?

I've often got bad words for a certain South American country on these pages, but today another has draw my ire... Colombia...

As far as I was aware until earlier today we have no angst between our countries, actions in the past were all history, we as far as I was concerned were friends... And hence when I heard old Charlie (Prince Charles) was on his way out there I didn't bat an eye lid.

However, now having read he's being criticized for this plaque thing... People of Colombia, you won!... You beat us, we have a sense of humour, unlike the Argies, we understand it was terrible and done hundreds of years ago, and still the second in line to the throne went over there and opened the plaque with your local dignitaries...

So why be so bothersome?

Is it me, or is the world getting a bee in it's bonnet at Britain?... We only want to be friends, and now be over charged for things, we're poor and disgruntled at our government, we've every waif and stray from any foreign field claiming benefits here, but other than that we're a mild bunch.

Why pick on us?

Saturday, 27 July 2013

LOTRO - Disappointing English

I played LOTRO when it first came out, I played a Dwarf and soon hated it.  At the time I was not willing to pay for the game - and since it went Free to play that barrier has been removed, I still don't play it, and I had to ask myself why?

Well, the look and feel of the game, I don't like, its awkward looking and I remember it looking pretty dated.  Things might have changed, but I'm simply not willing to download the mammoth sized download just to find out.  And I don't trust other peoples rigs capturing video, because their rig is not my rig.

But I don't think things have turned up very much in the quality, not least because this game representing one of the biggest names in English Literature, a book which sold so much in the twentieth century as to overshadow everything around it... this ENGLISH book through and through gets advertising mail like this:


"Through August 6"... its so yankie doodle fucking dandie.  Its not even correct English, and I hate that...

"Join the festivities from now until the 6th of August" would have been the more correct, Hobbiton, fashion of writing this, and its more meaningful.  The moment I see US tailored brain dead English like this I disengage with the topic, I don't want to have to wade through it, if you work in PR, then for god sake work in Language, not colloquialisms.

I think this is a personal peeve with the slap dapse approach to PR from across the Pond in the US of A, a better example of this might have been the birth of Britains new top baby boy, Prince George.


Lots of US news outlets were reporting him to be a new "to be" KING OF ENGLAND.  We don't have kings or queens of England, its the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (not to forget all the commonwealth realms - Canada & Anzac loving vibes to all - across the globe)... But oh no "England" they came up with... Hey ho...

Maybe when Scotland vote on their independence the US news-tards can get that all to cock and someone will give a shit, they don't seem to give a shit when they piss off the English, but you pick on a "minority" and you get focus.