大象传媒

This is written as a memorial to my father who was wounded in Italy whilst driving an officer somewhere near the front in July 1944. I have been involved in collecting wartime reminiscences of local people over the last two years and now as the web site draws to a close I feel an obligation to tell his story now that he has passed on (he died in 1999).

He had served in North Africa with Montgomery鈥檚 8th Army and then landed at Salerno. One day, a shell exploded near to the open 鈥渏eep鈥� he was driving and my father received head injuries the consequences of which affected him for the rest of his life. He recalled the blast, staggering out of the vehicle and feeling blood pouring down his neck and cheek and getting out his handkerchief to mop it up. After that, things were hazy. He never did know what had happened to the officer whom he was accompanying and I do not know his name. According to my father鈥檚 war record he appears to have been wounded on 7th July 1944 and he believed it to be in the vicinity of Poggibonsi. I would be interested to hear from anyone who knows where the RE鈥檚 where at this time and in fact where the front was. I think he may have been taken to a field hospital near Rimini or Ravenna - is this feasible? He had a friend in Italy (of whom I have photgraphs) called Pte. W.Quinnell (14936507 Q Branch, HQ BTA, CMF). Does anyone know what these abbreviations stand for?

He was patched up and continued to serve in Italy driving staff officers at headquarters in Milan during 1945 and 1946, despite what was described as shell shock the symptoms of which were slurred speech and shaking. He married and had me, his only offspring. The shrapnel that remained in his head was not discovered until after the war and the damage could never be reversed. Several nerves controlling motor function and co-ordination had been severed. Consequently, he suffered from a progressive decline over many years, rather like an MS-type illness, first losing his balance and later the use of his legs, having to give up work at an early age and succumb to a wheelchair. In fact they never took the shrapnel out, saying it would do more damage and was better to leave it where it was.

Despite his 鈥渄isability鈥� he rarely complained and kept himself occupied mentally. He retained his love of Italy, improving his Italian and continued to travel there with my mother for holidays when he could. Whilst in Italy after the war he had become interested in the Scouting movement and had been invested at Lake Como - and adopted the Scouting nickname 鈥淐omo鈥�. Prior to his wheelchair days, he continued as a Scout Leader in Nottingham and I remember visiting the Group at the World Jamboree at Sutton Coldfield in 1957 and visiting him at camp at Gilwell Park. He had a terrible problem with his balance which led many people to think he had had one too many drinks - people can be very cruel in their remarks - but it was natural really as they had no understanding of what the real problem was. He could just about ride a bike, but wobbled rather precariously. As a child I wished he that had lost an arm or a leg - an injury that would have been easier to cope with and more 鈥渙bvious鈥�. As his condition progressively worsened, my mother and I hardly noticed it, as we all adapted to the next level of disability. Only the remarks of family and friends who had not seen him for some time would bring home to my mother and I the truth about the decline in his health. He started to have more falls and he leaned (literally) on my mother more and more over the years. She walked him to and from the bus to work for the last two years before he took to a wheelchair and the strain of looking after him took its toll on her. She died of a heart attack in 1983 aged 59.

My Dad was just an ordinary chap, an ordinary soldier, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps the shell that wounded him was even one of our own - who knows. To me, he was a very brave chap, who did his bit for his country and he deserves to remembered for his courage and remarkable lack of bitterness considering what he went through.

The war gave young people then a chance to travel and see places that they would never have seen and for many it brought companionship and friendship in times of shared hardship and pain. But the war was a terrible thing with long-lasting consequences that damaged many lives even when it was over. As many of the stories on this site give witness to, many people experienced some terrible events that they have carried with them throughout their lives and that is something that we should all try to understand and never forget.

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