大象传媒

I am 53 years old, so I have grown up listening to stories about the war, some of them sounded fun in an interesting sort of way, but the saddest story is the one about my grandfather. He was a prisoner of war in Gdandst, Poland having been taken there by the Germans. He was captured in France on the beaches. Contact was made between him and my grandmother, but he never really told her how ill he was as a result of gunshot wounds. The end of war came, everyone was happy and my grandfather was due home. All the soldiers were being repatriated. Big party was planned, my grandmother - Nelly, was there with all her banners declaring love for my grandfather Fred. The whole street waited, but he never came with all the other soldiers. My grandmother looked around the streets throughout the night, to no avail. She went around to all the friends houses asking them if they had seen him in the streets. She thought he had been caught up in the street parties that were going on all over London and just could not get to her. No telephone in her house ('only for richer people' she'd say!) She went with two of her sisters to the railway stations and to the docks to see if he was there. Boats were coming in all through the night. so he might just be late. Still nothing. However, 5 days later a telegraph arrived to say that he had died as they were getting him onto the boat in Poland and so he was taken back off and would be buried in the British cemetary in Poland. This news changed my grandmother for the rest of her life. She never re-married and spent the rest of her life waiting for him to come back. She never quite believed the telegram and becaue English people were not allowed to travel to Poland, she couldnt really accept that he was buried there. This is a sad story, but I have a nicer ending for you. During my grandmothers life she would always say that she wanted to be buried with 'her Fred' and as time went on and I grew up to have my own family I started to understand her pain and set out to find my grandfathers burial place. The plan was to take my grandmother there, but sadly she died of a massive heart attack before the trip could be realised. Not willing to let this go, a surprise trip was planned to take my mother along with my grandmothers ashes and some of her small little trinklets to bury them with my grandfather. The War Graves commission could not have been more helpful in locating my grandfathers grave and in supplying us with his postumous campaign medals. So, in the late 1980's My sister and I collected our mother from her home by taxi and swept her off to the airport, once we were on the plane we told her what the big adventure was all about. She was overjoyed and very pleased to be doing something as wonderful - remember she was a child when her father died and had never really said goodbye to him either - We arrived in Gdandst all cheery and full of joy knowing that we would be accomplishing; our grandmothers wishes..........we all agreed that we would be brave and not get too emotional about this as Nelly wouldnt have wanted us to cry! Not to be.......the momemt we arrived at the grave, which had been beautifully looked after by the wife of a dead soldier for all of these years, the three of us and the taxi driver, who spoke very good English, couldnt hold back the tears. We were all sobbing and it was quite remarkable how these tears would not stop! It was extremely emotional, but also very wonderful in a powerful sort of way. The taxi driver gave us the spoon from his packed lunch to dig a hole next to the grave and we all took turns to have a dig. We placed the jewllery and the ashes inside. It made us all smile. My mother had a word with her father about deserting her and then had a chuckle to think that she could be so cross with him after all his bravery. After a few days, we returned to London and on the plane going back I presented my mother with my grandfathers medals sent to me by the War Commission. This was a momentous time for my mother and would have made her think happier thoughts about the story of her fathers death. The only thing she really knew about his death was 'that he didnt get off the boat'. She grew up with this story ringing in her head. Now she had closure and was able to put him in a place and see where he was now laid to rest. My mother tells us that my grandmother is looking down on all of us watching and checking what we all do. she thinks that she is saying 'thankyou' for what we did in Poland. Going through that made me appreciate my grandparents so much more.

I have just watched the VE day 60 year celebration in Traffalgar Square on TV, and the minute Vera Lynne came on I burst into tears! I immediately thought of our trip to Poland, and even though this is a sad story, it is also a very beautiful story which I always love to tell. Thank you for listening. I hope readers of this story will feel the warmth that we all felt the day after going to Poland to reunite our grandparents after so much bravery during and at the end of the second world war. Thankyou, Yvonne Wake.

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