大象传媒

My name is Kay and I was born at Shrewsbury, Shropshire, UK in 1942.
I am the daughter of William Tom Sparkes who joined up with the RAF soon after marrying Alice Fryer in September 1939, at Islington London.

I have had this photo since my father died. He died in 1988 soon after my mother. He was 72. Written in his handwriting are the words on the back of this photo. 鈥淪eptember 10th 1940 Blackpool. Squad 165 Wing L. Squadron 8 Corporal Dunbar.鈥�

My father, Tom, 5ft 6ins tall, is standing 4th from the left. The airman standing in the centre could be Corporal Dunbar, as I notice he has coloured ribbons displayed above his left top pocket. The airman sitting in the front row could be a flying instructor, as it appears he is the only one with his wings that can be seen on the front of his left side on his uniform. The two wearing flat caps I wonder. Who could they be? I have decided to have this photo published as there could be men, pictured in this photo still living. It could be of interest to them, their sons and daughters or even their grandchildren.

I know very little about my father鈥檚 flying with the RAF. My mother often told me that he flew aeroplanes. When I became an adult this subject came up in conversation in the late 1960s. I asked him 鈥淲hat did you fly during the war?鈥� He was abrupt with me, and wasn鈥檛 keen to give me an answer. I didn鈥檛 press him about it any more.

A few years after he died his older brother, my Uncle Jack, was telling me he crash landed a plane taking the under carriage off. I always knew he was posted to Algiers, North Africa. He then became a motor cyclist. He was sent to go somewhere but went missing over a short period of time. Fortunately he was found lying at the side of the road unconscious. He somehow had crashed the bike and had come off. He was admitted to 96 general hospital and eventually recovered before returning to England on a Red Cross Hospital Ship.

Looking back it was a blessing my Father wasn鈥檛 killed.

I had a playmate called Tony. I affectionately called his mum Aunty Kath. She became one of my mother鈥檚 many friends when my mother came to live in Shrewsbury after being bombed out in London.

One day we saw Tony鈥檚 Dad who was home on unexpected leave. He was fit and digging in his garden. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and was wearing his khaki trousers supported by braces. In his big army boots he was chatting away with me.
The next time I saw him he was struggling to walk on a pair of crutches and was not talking much. He had been sent home not with two legs but one and soon died from his injuries. To Tony his Dad then became a photo. We were both very young children when this happened.

Written by K E Foulger (Mrs)

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