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15 October 2014
WW2 - People's War

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My Italian Grandad

by WMCSVActionDesk

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Archive List > Childhood and Evacuation

Contributed by听
WMCSVActionDesk
People in story:听
Luigi Bergonzi, Francis Luigi Bergonzi, Toni Francis Luigi Bergonzi
Location of story:听
Birmingham
Background to story:听
Civilian
Article ID:听
A4138742
Contributed on:听
01 June 2005

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Kat Pearson, a volunteer from CSV Action Desk on behalf of Toni Bergonzi and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Bergonzi fully understands the sites terms and conditions.
I was nearly 5 when the war broke out- my father Frank worked at the Grand Hotel Birmingham, and my grandfather Luigi worked as a chef at the Midland Hotel. He was Italian and had come to England in the early 1900s, and in fact had been in the British army in WW1.
We lived in a new 1930s semi in Gleneagles Road, Yardley and my grandparents lived in Clevedon Road, Balsall Heath. In 1940 my father was called up into the Army, and Grandad would come over to see us probably once a week. He always wore a black suit with huge pockets and from these he would produce newspaper wrapped parcels which contained luxuries (in the days of rationing) such as chicken legs, and my favourite, huge blocks of Spam, which cut thick and fried and served with baked beans or the rare egg were a delight whose taste I can still recall. I've tried it since but the wonderful taste has gone- they obviously don't make it the same anymore!!
All this nearly came to an end when Italy joined the war on the side of Germany. My Grandad was given the sack from the hotel, but the staff threatened to go on strike if "Louie," as he was known, wasn't reinstated. After a few days he was back at the hotel and in view of his time in the country etc. he was not interned but just had to report any change of address to the Police- which he had to do when he was bombed out.
Young as I was I realised that having an Italian name might not be a good thing so when asked at school by other children where my name came from I'd say it was French- they were on our side! (I didn't know about Vinchy but i'd heard of the Free French.)My grandad was Luigi, my dad Francis Luigi and me- Toni Francis Luigi- my brother who was born in the war is much less evocative Michael John!!
We also used to go over to my Grandparents house in Cleveden Road, by bus and then tram, and I would be sent to Mrs Kelly's shop to get a cottage loaf and with the instructions from Grandma that "it mustn't have a black bottom." When Grandad came home from the hotel he would have the crust off the loaf, thickly spread with butter, and he would dip it in his cup of tea, rather like dunking biscuits, and I watched with a horrified fascination as the oily scum gradually appeared on the surface of his tea.
Mind you I thought the tea was pretty awful- Grandma had sterilised milk and I used to wait till my tea was practically cold so I could drink it down in one go to avoid that awful taste. What made it worse was that Grandma always put more milk in mine so that it wouldn't be too hot.
Christmas of 1941 saw us at Cleveden Road and my father was there on leave, in his army uniform and with his rifle, demonstrating a few drill steps to his younger brother and me. But the highlight was the trifle that Grandad produced at the end of Christmas tea. The top was covered in a thick layer of "cream"- it was actually imitation cream that you can still get in non-dairy cakes particularly the Black Country- and I love it to this day.

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