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15 October 2014
WW2 - People's War

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Don't Panic!

by WWIIVolunteer

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Contributed by听
WWIIVolunteer
People in story:听
George Schramm
Location of story:听
France
Article ID:听
A5718891
Contributed on:听
13 September 2005

My father was in the Royal Warks Regiment, having joined up in 1936. In those days, if you were an orphan, the army was the best way a young man had of making sure of a bed, food and a bunch of pals.
The trip to France was quite exciting for these Brummie lads, some of whom had been no further than a school trip to Dudley Zoo.
However the real reason for their foreign holiday became apparent very soon after landing. Guns, bullets, wet grass, Germans and death. My father had nightmares for the rest of his life due to his experiences in France, and I'm cetain he was not the only one.
The road to Dunkirk was trodden with George and many others wounded and exhausted. He was told that, on the beach, he was seen administering first aid by applying bandages to wounded legs outside their trousers! He remembered wading out to the rescue boat with his mates, then swimming the last bit (he was no swimmer but had to learn fast) before being hauled onto the vessel. Then back to Blighty, hospital and home.
In 1945,the home fit for heroes meant squeezing into one room in his mother-in-law's house with his wife, very soon pregnant, until the welcome council house arrived four years later.
His war stories always involved tales of dallying with French wenches, drinking glasses of French wine (not a patch on Ansells mild) and drunken brawls with others in his battalion! It was many years before he would discuss Dunkirk, Wormhold and his lost mates.
In 1936 he was described as A1 and was used as a model of a perfect soldier, in the peak of physical fitness. Nine years later he was discharged,a physical and emotional wreck.He was not alone, as we all know.
Several years later, George and my mother went on a trip with the Dunkirk Veterans Association to the beaches and the war graves. Again, it was too sad to be a holiday.Too many awful memories. Too many tears had flowed since 1940. Too many tears. Too many wars. Too much for us all.

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