大象传媒

Most homes will have a repository for the old family treasures. For this war-baby, these were to be found in Grandma's button tin on the sideboard, and in Uncle John's old shirt box under the sofa. This cellophane-lidded, battered-flat container held a motley collection of studio portraits and snapshots - many of which, alas, had lost their stories.

Some, however, held a special fascination for this young lad. There were several pictures of my 'Uncle Peter' during his travels around war-torn Europe - all of them inscribed to us, 'his family', at home in Silverwood Colliery housing, Near Rotherham.

Kindly uncle

I remember Peter Bryce as a kindly 'uncle', married to my mother's cousin, but it would be years before I found out exactly how he'd first come into our lives. His broad Glaswegian accent suggested that he might not be a natural-born 'Tyke' like me, so it prompted me to ask Mum how we had come to meet him. This is the story she told in 1999, long after Peter's death.

Trumpeter

During the war, there was a large army camp on the nearby Ravenfield Park estate. It had a band which boasted the 大象传媒 pianist Gerald Moore and several American GIs. Peter was its trumpeter! The Yanks could get petrol, and in our house could be found the keys to my Uncle Tom's new car when he was home on leave from flying his Lancaster bomber. So it was that we often played host to our very own wandering 'Glen Millers'!

Trauma of the Glasgow blitz

Peter was serving with a Scottish regiment, and was recovering from the trauma of losing his entire family in the Glasgow blitz. The picture Mum painted was of Peter entering his burning street, and seeing a door frame silhouetted against the flames. 'Standing' in the frame was the body of his wife still holding their dead baby.

A family adopted

His regular visits to our home resulted in him doing us the great honour of adopting us as his new family. Many of the pictures he sent from Sicily and Italy were dedicated to his 'dearest Grandma' - THAT WAS MY GRANDMA, but I don't think that I minded too much at the time.

A poignant image

This photograph shows Peter (kneeling left) with three pals at Saint Peter's Basilica in Rome's Vatican City. It's particularly poignant to me now, for it was on the road to Rome that my father - Lance Corporal Patrick Kilgallen, Coldstream Guards - was killed by an artillery barrage during the night of 29-30th January 1944 in the second Allied push against the defesive Gustav Line through Monte Cassino. The photo was taken that summer, after the capital's liberation.

On the back of the photograph, he's written: 'To my dearest sister and the best pal a guy ever had. I hope you like this Nora, it's really a fine place. All my love to You and Tony. Your loving Brother, Peter XXXXXXXXXXXX'

('Sister Nora' was my Mum - his 'best pal' was her brother John Browne - and I'm the 'Tony', then aged 3.)

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.