大象传媒

Our Father, who wasn鈥檛 in heaven but hospital, was clinging onto his life. He had been missing for a short period of time and was found near his RAF motor bike unconscious and injured at the side of the road. No one knew what had happed. My father鈥檚 name was William Tom Sparkes who told me later he couldn鈥檛 remember a thing about it.

His accident took place in Algiers, North Africa. At this time I was living in Shrewsbury, Shropshire, between the English and Welsh border with my mother who was 7 months pregnant. Someone, possibly the RAF had informed my mother that he had been missing and was found injured. My father was admitted to a general hospital on the 21 of June 1943.

My father鈥檚 correspondence was always censored by the RAF, before my mother ever received it. Several times letters came from him with parts cut out, by using a pair of scissors. Once she was not able to understand one of his letters at all, because such a lot had been cut away. Servicemen were fully aware of this and had to be always careful when writing home.

My father was recovering from his injuries and he was told he would be well enough to be sent home on a Red Cross Hospital Ship. Naturally he was eager to write home and tell my mother the great and wonderful news he had just heard. He knew he would be able to see her again very soon, once back in England when on leave. But how would he tell her? This was classified as highly sensitive information.

My father had decided to send a message to my mother in the form of a 鈥渟ecret code鈥� so the officials who censored and sometimes cut parts out of his letters to her, were not going to recognise his message, and it worked.

His secret message to her did not get discovered or removed. He wrote telling her to look up 鈥�471 in Sankeys鈥�. My mother looked up this number from her Sankeys Hymn Book*, and the words from the hymn were 鈥� 鈥淣ow I鈥檓 coming home鈥�. She was elated!

I was very young at the time but I do remember his homecoming very well, and I think the whole town of Shrewsbury did as well. We went out to a caf茅 with all my mother鈥檚 friends, and her friends鈥� babies and toddlers to celebrate, drinking cups of tea with him.

My father was able to meet his eight month old son for the first time. It had been ten months since he had been admitted into hospital in Algiers, which was a long way from home and communications were poor. But we survived the Second World War!

My father went on to live a good few more years, and passed away twenty-five days before his 73rd Birthday in Axminster Hospital Devon 1988.

Written by Kay E Foulger (Mrs)

*Lord I鈥檓 Coming Home written by William J Kirkpatrick 1892

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