大象传媒

When I was a child, my Grandfather would never tell me about the war; he waited for me to become a man before he could talk about it. He never saw any glory in it and to his death, never wore his medals.

After signing up, he was taken down south (Aldermaston?) for basic training. Afterwards, they were put on ship but not allowed to communicate home. He spent 3 months at sea; learned to boil a kettle fom candles (tea making took an hour; but that was an hour of distraction).

They hit the beaches on D-Day and in seconds his cousin, by his side, was shot dead. He had to keep moving because they were totally exposed. They moved up the beach and were tasked with taking the coast road and sealing it. Along the way, his brother fell.

It was bloody, sudden and damn frightening.

He had shore leave for a while once the command was set up. My Gran was 'forced' to have a civil servant billeted at her house in that time to share the house with her young daughter (my mother). Grandad sent parcels when abroad; one included bananas.

Back on duty, he survived his war. As an immature child I asked him if he'd killed any German's; he answered that anyone who takes pride in life couldn't answer that question. In later life he said that losing your friends and family before your eyes was hard; and though in the short term it spurred you on, you look back and wonder about the feelings of the families of those whose lives you were to take away.

At the end of the war he was involved in providing clearance along the Suez canal (away from wrecks and bombs; apparantly it was like a scrapyard). His war didn't end until '46-7.

One day in '47 he was working on a house as direct labour for Lancaster City Council when a car backfired. He was found inside the house screaming and crying and he threw a fit. He was screaming out about the landings. It was a while before he recovered. He had petit mal ever since.

He enjoyed another 50 years of life and was a gentle man who loved opera and brass bands. He marked the silence but could never put himself forward to march; he saw no reason to be proud to have been caught up in such a travesty of mankind.

I wear my poppy with pride and my 19 month old daughter wore hers and watched on TV(with bewilderment) the wreath laying and the silence. She'll grow up with an understanding of what those before her had to go through.

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