theconrodkid
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 07:53 PM |
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my old man drove a bren gun carrier...thats all i know,apart from the fact that he "liberated" a lot of stuff,some of which i still
have .
he never spoke about his experiences.
when i were a lad he would take the loaded clip from his luger and let me play cowboys n injuns in the street .
who cares who wins
pass the pork pies
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britishtrident
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 07:56 PM |
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Most people of that generation never talked enough about what they went through.
I knew a bloke in the war time SAS right from its start in the dessert through Dodecanese SBS raiding parties, alongside Fitzroy Maclean in the
Balkans right to the clearing out pockets of die hard SS in the last few months of the war in europe. He fought very highly of Maclean and most of
other big SAS names of the time but when I got him to talk about Anders Lassen he said all the man wanted was to kill as many Germans as possible
in revenge for the murder of his parents and sister, he thought had Lassen lived longer he would have continued to seek revenge.
Another bloke I knew was ground crew when Bader straight of POW camp was desperate to try an ME262 and persuaded a German POW to show him how to
start it up and fly it apparently the starting procedure involved puddles of kerosene running out the engine and a lighted rag.
One my uncles had only one leg so drove an auxilary he was called out to the Clydebank Blitz at 8 am the morning after ( the raid had wiped out all
phone lines so it 10 hours before the powers that be realise just how bad the raid had been. He said there wasn't much to see until they
crossed the boundary between Clydebank and Glasgow them immediately it was devistation the first thing he saw was a burned out tram and the tram
rails sticking 12 feet into the air twisted into a knot.
My other uncle a PO mechanic on MTBs all through the seige of Malta and invasion of Itally he was on a depot ship tied up in Bari Harbour when the
last major German bomber attack in that theatre of war was mounted just before Christmas 43.
There was virtually no air defence as the RAF and USAAF thought the Germans were finished, problem was they weren't and Bari Harbour and at
least one of the ships were piled high with mustard gas bombs and shells for possible use at what would later become known as Monte Casino.
The 100 bomber raid was led by the nephew of the WW1 Red Baron, Bari harbour and warf area took a plastering. Many liberty ships were sunk and on warf
in the centre of the quayside the whole flotilla of MTBs were smashed like matchwood. The MTB depot ship broke its mooring and drifted out in to the
centre of the harbour where the crew picked survivors who were heavily contaminated with mustard gas. It was so secret that nobody in authority knew
they were dealing with Mustard gas.
The next day my uncle was order to burn all the uniforms of the survivors and ended up being blinded for 3 days. Poor sod had all ready been through
some rough MTB ops in the med and been bombed and starved durring the seige of Malta.
Churchill ordered an immediate 100% cover up of the raid for fear of giving the Nazis propaganda and- all documents relating to ithe incident were
destroyed.
The depot ship was badly damaged but repairable but ordered scuttled to avoid any question that might arise if she was taken to a shipyard for repairs
to this day it is difficult to find any record that HMS VIENNA even existed.
A Google on Bari Mustard MTB turns up all kind of interesting stuff.
[Edited on 8/1/12 by britishtrident]
[I] What use our work, Bennet, if we cannot care for those we love? .
― From BBC TV/Amazon's Ripper Street.
[/I]
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StevieB
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:05 PM |
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My Grandad served in Borneo with the RAF Regiment. He was lucky to make it through as one night some local tribesmen (the traditional headhunter
types) came into his tent and killed his 3 mates, taking their heads. He was well tucked up in the corner and they apparently missed him. The
tribemen were paid by the Japanese to go about such activities.
My wifes Great Uncle served in the Great War in the 10th Bn Lincolshire Regiment (known as the Grimsby Chums). He joined as a lad but was a Major by
the time he was killed in the Lochnagar Mine. He was awarded a posthumous MC for his actions. Unfortunately my wife's Gran, in the latter
stages of her life when she wasn't thinking clearly, gave the MC to one of the NHS staff that looked after her as a gift.
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T66
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:20 PM |
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quote:
Originally posted by StevieB
My Grandad served in Borneo with the RAF Regiment. He was lucky to make it through as one night some local tribesmen (the traditional headhunter
types) came into his tent and killed his 3 mates, taking their heads. He was well tucked up in the corner and they apparently missed him. The
tribemen were paid by the Japanese to go about such activities.
My wifes Great Uncle served in the Great War in the 10th Bn Lincolshire Regiment (known as the Grimsby Chums). He joined as a lad but was a Major by
the time he was killed in the Lochnagar Mine. He was awarded a posthumous MC for his actions. Unfortunately my wife's Gran, in the latter
stages of her life when she wasn't thinking clearly, gave the MC to one of the NHS staff that looked after her as a gift.
My Grandas theodolite from his time at sea, was stupidly sold for £70 by family who should of known better.
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britishtrident
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:24 PM |
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quote:
Originally posted by Bladerunner
My Wifes Grandfather was badly injured in then first World War, they shipped him home, got him well again and then shipped him back to the front
again!!!!
They didn't believe in letting them rest ----
There was a story in my family that my maternal grandfather was with Lawerence Arabia -- the old guy never said much but years later I checked out
his service record or as much of it as survived (a lot of WW1service records were destroyed in a WW2 air raid).
Volunteered Wellington Square Ayr August 1915 Civilian Occupation Motor Chauffeur (He was one of Sir William Arrols drivers)
Egypt
Gallipoli
Battle of Gaza
Battle of Beersheba
Battle of El Mughar Ridge
Battle of Jerusalem
Western Front
1919 Germany
De-mobbed November 1919
[I] What use our work, Bennet, if we cannot care for those we love? .
― From BBC TV/Amazon's Ripper Street.
[/I]
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snapper
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:29 PM |
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Dad got the Burna star, RAF engineer
Grandad, saw a pair of Cavalry boots in the spare room, story of going over the top, bayonet through the wrist ( scars to proove it) but got the
bugger back and had to fire the rifle to get the bayonet out of his chest.
Uncle, promoted in the field, the block that promoted him got shot so did not stand, then got shot through the shoulder, flesh wound, patched up sent
back, then Anzio landings, pinned down others got shot or got away, he got shot through the knee, hold up in a barn, got away with it, endid up
marrying an Italian girl, my aunt.
He is now 88 had the knee fixed properly only a few years ago, nicest most gentle man you could ever meet.
Frankly I am in awe of those old boys, tough as old boots.
I give the same respect to those in Afghanistan now, it's a hard gritty war.
I eat to survive
I drink to forget
I breath to pi55 my ex wife off (and now my ex partner)
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StevieB
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:29 PM |
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I still have my paternal grandads medals from first world war - he was a policeman at the time and so remained in the force throughout (and was too
old for WWII).
We're from Hartlepool, which was the first town on the mainlan to be attacked by the Germans - one of his medals commemorates his service on
this day, as well as throughout the war.
They live safe and sound in a tin under my bed, along with some photo's of my other grandad from his time in Borneo. Both are wrapped up in my
own berets, regimental flashes and awards etc.
I'll hand them to my eldest son one day in the future.
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austin man
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:42 PM |
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It is the great feats that our grandparents / parents did that made this country in the day A truly Great Britain, unfortunately all to many of our
youth have forgotten the bravery, suffering and sacrifices these men women made. My Grandad was an ambulance driver my dad was in the REME for 24
years joining at 15 / 16 years old several postings spent time in Borneo and Brunai during the late 50's / 60's . Mother in law worked in
the munitions factory during the war.
Life is like a bowl of fruit, funny how all the weird looking ones are left alone
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T66
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 08:56 PM |
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We have a new generation amongst us, who have friends and family serving the Queen in Afghan & elsewhere, they too will encounter death &
tragedy like our parents / grand parents did/have.
Might be a good time to mention my favourite charity - Came across them while listening to BFBS radio on the sky box.
http://www.blesma.org/
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steve m
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| posted on 8/1/12 at 09:19 PM |
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"dray13dad"
Your poor old Grandfather was killed, by the Bismark attack, at least all those on board, got there reward, a solitary Catalina spotted the Bismark ,
and the British hunted them down, and the ship that my Grandfather was on, put them to the bottom of the sea
Justice !!
Not that i glory in all this, i truly do not, what a waste of human life. German, British, and all in between, a waste !
Steve
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morcus
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 01:40 AM |
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My Grand parents weren't quite old enough, my Grandfather was a fireman at the end of the war aged 17.
My Great Grand Father was in the RAF, but the specifics are unknown to me and not really talked about by the familly but I'm sure I was told he
was on bombers, wasn't a pilot and from some of the things he told us in the earlier period of his Alziemers (I'm sure thats spelt wrong)
he bombed Germany, my brother is sure he said he was part of the bombing of Dresden but I've no idea if thats true.
My Grandma was Friends with a man called Peter Finnigan who was a familly friend and who served on HMS Warspite during the war and is probably the
only person I've ever known well who's spoken in depth about the war on a personal level.
HERE is an article I found by googling his
name and warspite. He was such an amzing man with so many stories to tell (David Bowie lived in his house in the 60's and wrote some of his
early music there), he died last year.
In a White Room, With Black Curtains, By the Station.
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violentblue
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 04:36 AM |
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My great grandfather was a Canadian Volunteer for the RAF and squadron leader.
he joined back before there was a Canadian airforce and RAF was still the RFC.
He was known as "Jack the Bastard", because no one liked him. He was an ace, but would have been an double ace (if there is such a
thing) but no one would confirm his kills because they all hated him.
He passed away when I was 10, but I kew him long enough to understand how he got the nickname.
a few pics of my other projects
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Phil.J
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 07:56 AM |
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I'm named after my uncle Philip who was taken by saltwater crocodiles while fording a river in Borneo in 1943.
My dad spent much of the war posted to Malta, but would never talk about it.
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Ivan
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 08:24 AM |
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Dad was a medical officer in field hospitals in North Africa and Italy doing triage - would imagine he saw some pretty horrendous things. His brother
was in armoured cars in North Africa and Italy, saw plenty of action.
Another Uncle was captured on his 2nd day in North Africa - escaped twice and recaptured each time then transferred to Italy where he escaped again
and was recaptured then they decided that it was best to send him to Germany - he and a friend jumped the train and friend was machine gunned as they
ran from the train - he got away and was sheltered by a family in a small Italian village at huge risk to themselves for 6 months, he finally crossed
the Alps to Switzerland where he spent the rest of the war. Never spoke about time in POW camps but aunt said he often woke up screaming at night.
Another uncle flew fighters (Spitfires, Hurricanes and Typhoons in North Africa and Italy) - he was mentioned in dispatches apparently.
Great Aunt was in Cryptography in London and decrypted the declaration of peace.
Another Great Uncle flew amongst others Sopwith Camels in the WW1 from age of 15 - lied about his age to get in. Was hit once by possibly a spent
bullet but thickness of clothing worn in cockpit in winter and great coat button saved him. He always kept the button on him - showed it to me too.
When I was a kid Sailor Malan (WW2 flying ace) would sometimes visit us.
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adithorp
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 08:41 AM |
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My paternal grandfather served at Ypres and was one of 2 from his original his platoon to survive. he never spoke of it to my Dad, except once when
during ww2 my dad (still a schoolboy) asked him what a sniper did. "Once, I was on night guard with my best mate. I looked around and the back
of his head was missing. Thats what a snipper does!". After his death we found a diary he'd writen. After the armistice he'd been
part of the "March to the Rhine". His new platoon took shelter one night in a canal side hut/shed and my grandad took first watch with
another soldier. When they weren't releived theystayed on guard untill eventually they decided to go and see what was wrong. They couldn't
wake thier relief. To keep warm they'ed lit an old stove but the flu was blocked and everyone inside died from CO poisoning.
"A witty saying proves nothing" Voltaire
http://jpsc.org.uk/forum/
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mcerd1
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 11:47 AM |
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most of my family were farmers on both sides which meant a lot of them had protected occupations - but that didn't seem to stop them joining
up
Unfortunately none of them ever talked much about what they did to anyone, my mum is busy researching her grandad and his brother who apparently both
got medals in the trenches but no one knows why
My paternal grandad is the only one I knew personally, he was studying medicine for most of the war and was in the home guard at the same time. he
spent a lot of time guarding the airfield (where I now work) next to the farm he lived on taking pot shots at heinkel's with is shotgun, but he
qualified in 1943 and after ended up in northern France shortly after D day with the Royal Army Medical Corps.
He never talked much about his 'work' over there and he'd get quite upset just thinking about it. He loved talking about the time
he spent riding from unit to unit all over northern France, Holland, Denmark and Germany on a motorbike - it sounded like he really enjoyed that bit
of it, but he did have a real hatred for the Stuka pilots as he said they used to dive bomb and Strafe there convoy's and ambulances. In middle
of all this he managed to get himself attached to the scottish horse, which he reckoned was one of the best regiments around, but thats all I know
He didn't get de-mobbed till 1947 as he was one of the doctors de-mobbing everyone else - apparently the biggest problem he had to deal with
then was syphilis
[Edited on 9/1/2012 by mcerd1]
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britishtrident
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 12:41 PM |
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This thread is producing some good stuff !
[I] What use our work, Bennet, if we cannot care for those we love? .
― From BBC TV/Amazon's Ripper Street.
[/I]
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whitestu
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 01:18 PM |
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quote:
He was known as "Jack the Bastard"
Fantastic! Sounds like a character from Blackadder!
Stu
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Neville Jones
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 02:09 PM |
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My maternal grandfather said he was the fastest runner in Darwin, but not fast enough. He had the shrapnel scars on his back 'til he died. He
was working on the jetty when the Japs bombed it, and was dirty at anything Japanese all his life. Apparently, he had his full tool kit with him at
the pierhead when the bombs dropped, and everything went to the bottom of the harbour.
My uncle Jack drove ambulances in New Guinea. Said he often was driving past Japs in the jungle, to pick up wounded. He claimed he was the fastest
runner in New Guinea, but he said everyone there would claim the same at some point.
My paternal grandfather did MacArthurs teeth! There is an odd story to tell on this.
My grandad would drill a hole and fill it with gold at the slightest sign of a scratch or anything, and was quite well known for his dental work.(He
died in his chair, 78yrs old and still working) He had a couple of yanks attached to him at his surgery, to deal with the riff raff, and he did the
officers.
One of these attached dental people was a guy called Schumpert. How I know this, you will see.
When I was working on the race yachts, I was in Fort Lauderdale, and had a worrying tooth. Summoned up the courage and booked an appointment at the
local dentist, Schumpert and sons, on the east side of the 17th street bridge.
I'm sat in the chair, and the dentist looks at the goldwork, and says he only saw work like it in the war, in aus. He then looks at my card, and
asks if I'm related to the fella he worked with in the war! You couldn't invent this stuff for a novel! Dr.Schumpert then invited me to
meet his family, and proceeded to show me photographs of himself and my father fishing on the beach, and more of him with my family at the holiday
house down the coast.
Incredible, that I was halfway around the world, having my teeth done by a guy that my grandfather had taught in Queensland during the second war. All
true!
We also had a dear friend here, Derrick, who walked for three weeks with a group of five after Dunkerque, all the way to Caen. Took three weeks and
they were brought back by a French fisherman. Derrick was then dropped in three days before D-Day, and by his words 'saw some gruesome
things'. He didn't talk much about the war, as most who were there don't. One Sunday afternoon, after lunch, we were all sitting in
the lounge watching 'A Bridge too Far', and one of my sons asked, 'was it really like that Derrick?' His reply is still
remembered by all the family, 'Noooo, it was far, far worse. See that chap there, that's me'. Stunned silence. What can you say? He
was actually there at the end of the bridge. When one of the boys asked if he'd killed any Germans, he replied 'far too many, God Forgive
me.' Time to change the channel and the conversation, as the dear old gent was visibly upset. He would have been in his 80's at the time
he said these things.
My wifes grandfather was a Colonel with the Gurkhas. I never met him, and from what is relayed about him, he would never speak of the war, under any
circumstances.
I feel particularly privileged to have known these exceptional old men, and moreso that they said the little that they did.
Cheers,
Nev.
]
[Edited on 9/1/12 by Neville Jones]
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foskid
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 03:03 PM |
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My maternal grandfather didn't get involved in the war at all, he had lost his left leg in a mining accident a year before it set off.
My father had just enlisted about 2 months before the end when became of age so didn't see any action either, but he did manage to get himself
shot in the leg in a firing range accident in 1958, I never knew his father.
[Edited on 9/1/12 by foskid]
[Edited on 9/1/12 by foskid]
He knows nothing and thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career.
George Bernard Shaw
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T66
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 04:12 PM |
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This thread has unearthed some amazing tales of service & bravery from all corners of the world. I guessed there might be some moving/emotional
tales of family history, I am stunned at what we have collectively written on this thread......
Quite a few of the entries have moved me to tears - Steve M ! count me in ...
Ivan
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UncleFista
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 04:31 PM |
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My maternal Grandad was in the East Lancs regiment at Caen, he was in an explosion (artillery or tank shot) and woke up in England, after a couple of
months in hospital he was assigned to be a guard in a POW camp (permanently deaf in one ear).
My dad died when I was very young, so my Grandad took his place in my mind, "what would my grandad do in this postion etc." I spent hours
on his knee listening to "war" stories. It wasn't until I got older that I realised every story he told was about the people he
knew, not the fighting.
He told stories about the German POWs he made friends with and lots of stories, things like the POWs wore british uniforms with a big painted circle
on the back to distinguish them from British soldiers.
Near the end of the war, and shortly after it ended, my grandad and the other guards would turn a blind eye while the Germans scrubbed the paint off
their uniforms and went to the pub at the weekend
My grandad always admired the German soldiers he met, he said you just told a group of them what needed doing and one would act as the boss and
they'd just get on with it.
I have some hand made gifts the prisoners made for him from bits of scrap wood and the bits of paint in the bottom of tins that were thrown out.
There's an Indian brave wooden plaque all colourfully painted, a very cleverly made wooden cigarette box and a ship in a bottle.
I miss him.
Tony Bond / UncleFista
Love is like a snowmobile, speeding across the frozen tundra.
Which suddenly flips, pinning you underneath.
At night the ice-weasels come...
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steve m
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 05:52 PM |
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What a great thread, and i hope we get some pictures added,
Steve
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motorcycle_mayhem
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 06:37 PM |
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Before my Grandmother died horrifically from bowel cancer, she used to relay stories about her job at the Woolwich Arsenal.
She used to work long hours assembling shells that were dropped on Germany, some endorsed with (what would now be)politically incorrect greetings for
our (now) European friends.
Her description of what it was like to deal with the aftermath of the front of her house (in Welling) taken out wth a V1, and how everybody helped
each other (what no selfish greed?).. uplifting.
Rest in peace.
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britishtrident
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| posted on 9/1/12 at 06:44 PM |
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The unpredictable randomness of the V1 & V2 must have been soul destroying.
[Edited on 9/1/12 by britishtrident]
[I] What use our work, Bennet, if we cannot care for those we love? .
― From BBC TV/Amazon's Ripper Street.
[/I]
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