大象传媒

The Browne family lived in the Deputies' terraced house at Silverwood Cottages, across the road from Silverwood Colliery. James had helped sink the shaft, and eventually moved his wife Lavinia and son Harry from Wigan into the new house in 1906. They had six more children at Silverwood: Lesley died in childhood, Joe followed, then Nora (1912), John (1914), Thomas and Robert. The 1928 General Strike shut the colliery, and split the family. Harry went off to London, and Joe began a long career with the Nottingham Police force. By 1939, James & Lavinia were both in poor health and housebound; daughter Nora was back from a life "in service" in London, and now lived at home with her younger brothers John, Thomas and Robert. When war broke out, Nora married her fiance, miner and Coldstream Guard Reservist Patrick Kilgallen, before he went off with the BEF in September 1939. She stayed at home. He survived this campaign and was rescued from Dunkirk. So it was thanks to those 'little ships' that I -- Patrick Anthony -- appeared on the scene on 6th June 1941. Much of Dad's "home" service involved Blitz clearance work on Merseyside. Thomas went off to America as an RAF cadet on the ARNOLD SCHEME; Robert went with the REME to the North African desert and Palestine. John had a heart problem, so was "excused boots". He was our only breadwinner.
Dad went to North Africa with Monty's Eighth Army, then went on to help take the seige guns on Pantellaria, before invading Sicily and landing on the Italian mainland at Salerno. On the night of 29/30 January 1944, he as killed by a huge shell from the German rail-mounted artillery piece known by our troops as "the Formia Express".
When the telegram came, John broke off his engagement and declared his job was now "to look after Nora and Tony" - a promise he kept til his death in 1994!!
His war consisted of very long days; working split shifts (6.00am til midday, then again 6.00pm - 10.00pm) in the colliery. This pattern left his afternoons free to tend the pigs and chickens, or to cycle around Yorkshire looking for scarce medicines and fresh fruit for the family. Compared with many War Widow stories, however, our life was not too difficult. We had a home, and the fuel to heat at least one room and our large kitchen range. Our cellar, which acted as our air-raid shelter, always had hams hanging from the ceiling. some of these were for exchanging with produce from the neighbours, whose gardens were growing different crops. Some specialised in fruit, others in vegetables. Where was I through all this? In a box under the concrete slab which supported the meat safe. When the steelworks of Sheffield were under attack by the Luftwaffe, we were usually disturbed too. We didn't know at the time that a secret machine in a Sheffield hospital was 'jamming' the enemy's radar, causing the confused crews to drop their bomb loads at random before heading home with their fuel running low.
Visitors to the house included a cockney Bevin Boy who was billeted on us, but disappeared after a few days "with 12/6 of our housekeeping money". (You didn't mention 'Bevin' again in our house after that!!) On a happier note, Tom would bring members of his crew on visits. He was now the pilot of a Lancaster, and based not too far away in Lincolnshire. In fact, he could fly a Lanc before he could drive a car. When he did get his car, he became a pal of the band at the large Army camp in nearby Ravenfield Park. The Americans could get petrol, Tom had the car, and we 'adopted' the trumpeter and the pianist!!
The former was a Glaswegian, Peter Bryce, who'd lost his wife and child in the Blitz. He adopted "Grandma" and sent us regular pictures of his regiment's progress through Rome. The pianist was the well-known 大象传媒 musician, Gerald Moore. We still have a portrait of him at the Glasgow Empire organ, signed "Best Love, Gerald". The war ended, but the family were not free of pain. Within a year, Nora and John had lost both parents. Now it was just Mum, Uncle John and Me gainst the world!!
It must have affected me, for (at age six) I asked Mum one day:
"Why don't you smile like other Mummies do?". I don't remember saying it, and Mum only told me of it a few years before she died in 2000. I was very upset, but she made me feel better by adding that I'd shaken her into "getting on with life". This we did. I was lucky to have the support to get me to University and a career as a Physics teacher. I have a wonderful 40-year marriage, three wonderful sons (one a PATRICK, one a JON) and two gorgeous grandchildren, Charlotte Elizabeth and Andrew PATRICK. That's a pretty good legacy! Thanks MUM, DAD & UNCLE JOHN!!

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