大象传媒

A Quirk of Fate

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by a volunteer from Cleveland on behalf of Robert Hogg, and has been added to this site with his permission. Robert fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.鈥�

My story begins in the spring of 1940. I was 15/16 months old, when Dad (who worked at head Wrightson鈥榮 Thornaby) came home from work one day, and said he was joining the Royal Artillery (Dad was in The Ackack) he was posted abroad with the 8th Army. He was in all campaigns in North Africa. By 1943, while having a leave in Cairo, Dad took the opportunity of having a voice mail made by 鈥淭he Voices of Overseas Forces鈥� and sent home to us. I was 4 陆 years by now. When the packet from Dad arrived, in it was a flat disk shiny one side with black grooves and other. Mam got Gran鈥檚 windup gramophone to play it. Dad requested, Mam and I to have a photo taken and sent out to him. As the only one of me he had was of a baby. And as war was drawing to a close, in early 1945, (Dad was a Sergeant Major by now) and was a back in North Africa in charge of a group of POW. Some of his duties were a search health and request, etc. Language was a problem until one day a German POW was elected spokesman who spoke perfect English. After a while Dad asked this German, How come he spoke good English? He said that he had lived and worked in England for a while. Before the war, and just before we declared war on Germany. He went back to his homeland and joined the Luftwaffe. Dad asked him where about in England? He replied 鈥淯p North East I lived in Stockton and worked at ICI Billingham. Dad could hardly believe it. When he told him he was from Middlesbrough and worked at Head Wrightson鈥檚. The two foes got very friendly. After a while, the two got talking about Teesside, where you could get a good pint in Stockton, the best Fish and Chips and the people of Teesside. Then one day (The war was ending) Dad said to him, he was looking forward to going home to see his wife and son and taking me to see the Boro play. When the POW asked Dad 鈥淗ave you got a photo of your Wife and Son鈥� Dad showed him the one Mam and I had taken at Forrest Wompra鈥檚 (Grange Road) and sent out to him. 鈥淐ould I borrow it for a while?鈥� Dad trusted him and said yes, after a wile he gave it back to dad, with a portrait of Mam and I. The likeness is stunning, a magnificent portrait of Mam and I He signed it R. Weidenbach.1945. Dad said he sketched a lot about the POW camp. Dad often thought about his German friend, and wondered if it was by some quark of fate that one of his gun crews had brought him down only to meet dad in the heart of the African Desert?

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