- Contributed by听
- 大象传媒 LONDON CSV ACTION DESK
- People in story:听
- Shirley R Dawson
- Location of story:听
- London and Canada
- Article ID:听
- A7468473
- Contributed on:听
- 02 December 2005
When war broke out in 1939 my mother and father, who had both served in the first World War, immediately enlisted again. My father went back into the army. He had been right through the Ist war including spells in the trenches. He was joined in 1916 by his younger brother Geoffrey. Both boys joined the newly formed Tank Corps. Geoffrey was killed in action in 1918. His remains were never found. He was awarded the MC for 鈥渆xtreme gallantry鈥.
My mother had pursued throughout the First World War. She resumed pursuing in 1939, bicycling half a mile and the bus stop, and taking a bus into Alton twice a week and work at the Cottage Hospital.
Our family had moved from London and Hampshire in 1938. My father, who was a barrister in peace time worked in London during the week and came home at weekends. He continued to do this during the War, going right through the blitz.
My brother Geoff, left school in 1939 when he had passed his exams to get into Cambridge. He lived at home and worked on the farm next door as a farm labourer, until old enough to join up. He joined the Fleet Air Arm in 1941 and trained as a pilot. In 1942 his course sailed for Canada for their final 6 months training. But he never came back 鈥 he was drowned while training in Jane 1942.
My father had different staff jobs in London throughout the war. His little house was bombed 3 times but thank goodness he escaped unharmed. His final job was in Fighter Command which was very exciting. He couldn鈥檛 tell us what he was doing there however until the end of the war. My mother and I used to go up to London from time to time to be with him, and we experienced a lot of bombing, and crouching underneath the stairs which was what most people did.
My mother became ill in 1946. I left school early to come home and looked after her. I was 17 by then. She died of cancer at the end of that year.
Many many years later, in 1992, I travelled to Canada to visit some of my husband鈥檚 relatives (he died in 1983), and I was able to go to the cemetery, Cataraqui, in Kingston, Ontario to visit my brother鈥檚 grave. I was the first aid only member of the family and go there, 50 years after his death.
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