J4CKO

iTrader: (1)

I went to my grandparents with my three lads today, had to take my Grandma to do a couple of jobs and suggested he should tell them some of the war tales he told me, one I remembered was about a ship exploding in Bombay in 1944. Basically he was on a Corvette type ship which one afternoon was nearly overturned due to a huge explosion, I had tried to find out about it before but thought it was somewhere else, anyway, I searched for it and found a wikipedia article.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombay_...ion_%281944%29

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Fort_Stikine

Sounds horrific but my grandad's account was far more so, he spent a week dragging charred corpses from the water, he helped on injured man out of the water and all the skin came off his back as he lifted him, he died there in the boat, there were body parts everywhere, people were stealing jewellery off corpses and the smell of roasting corpse hung heavy in the air. I knew it was pretty bad but not quite how bad,

Funny how it doesn't really seem to have affected him and he is quite happy to talk about it, he was very nearly not able to talk about it as he was a signalman until early 1946, on VE day he was on lookout at a port in a tower with a searchlight, an American ship comes in hotting its horn and someone was taking potshots with a fairly powerful gun, the searchlight was the main target and my grandad hit the deck as the wall behind him got hit, about, he reckons, six inches from his brains decorating the wall.

So, he was ready, in barracks in Southampton after the war and was two days from going home to my Grandma to get married, he gets a letter telling him he wasn't going home due to a shortage of signalmen and he was to spend the next six months on Minesweepers in the Channel and up as far as the Baltic sea, which was dangerous and uncomfortable, thankfullhe inished after the six months and didnt get extended any longer.

It is amazing the condition's they had to endure on the Corvette's, cramped, 20 men, eating, sleeping, washing and performing every bodily function in a room the size of a modest living room, running out of food and living in 100 degree heat. He was pretty positive about the good bits and stoic about the bad bits, he made some good mates and saw some amazing places, he saw a shoal of flying fish, a significant number they managed to catch so they ate well that night.

Makes me realise how soft we are, how pathetic some people are, like that woman getting four million quid for a few snotty comments, people bitching as they haven't got the latest stuff, perhaps we need to experience some hardship to appreciate comfort and safety, a lot of this country needs a reality check like that.

Sorry if I am boring you just been a bit of an eye opener, was nice to see the kids talking to him, asking questions and listening, he is 90 so not sure how much chance they will have and we tend to only miss opportunities like this and would pay anything for ten minutes to ask some questions when its too late, a bit maudlin perhaps but if nothing else my grandad is realistic, still sharp and with it, not as much as my grandma who is amazing for her age, sharper than a lot of twenty year olds.

Anyway, kind of saying, if you are lucky enough to have grandparents, make the most of them !

JTaylor

Thanks for that, J4CKO. My late, maternal grandfather was a captain in the Royal Marines and was unable to talk about his experiences; "stiff upper-lip, old-boy". We were very close and we became closer still after my father passed while I was in my mid-twenties. We always talked about going to visit his brother's memorial in France, but regrettably (and it takes a lot to make me cry) I didn't take him before he passed at the age of 93. My paternal grandfather served, too. I never had the opportunity to meet him. Cherish your time with your grandfather and if you've not done so already, summon the courage to tell him how you feel.

Jaybird-UK

Interesting post and thanks for sharing. You Are right, we should treasure our grandparents as you don't have them for long.

All of mine have long since passed away but I still have fond memories of making wooden items in my granddads 'magic shed' ( he was a carpenter and had every tool under the sun in his workshop ).

Moley

iTrader: (9)

Great post.

I could listen to stories like that for hours.... and be thankful that we don't have to go through that.

alcazar

iTrader: (2)

My father, before he died, was very bitter about the treatment meted out towards Bomber Command since the war, and to Sir Arthur Harris above all.

His memories included dragging men out of shot up Lancasters and half the body coming away at a time. Later, he and others would have to clean out and rebuild the Lanc.
He also served on an airfield where the men's rations were being sold on the black market by the base commander and he, and others, were doing 16-17 hour days to keep the planes in the air.

He was attached to 83 Pathfinder Squadron, 1939-46. My dad, 1914-2006.

He always hated the miners who went on strike nort once, but TWICE while he was serving, and their wages made his 1/- (5p) a day look daft

Hysteria1983

This has reminded me about my grandads suitcase. He has loads of pictures and all sorts from when my grandad and his twin brother were in WW2.

Some of the pictures of them in Egypt are amazing, and the tales he used to tell were amazing!

Always lovely to hear about the different stories J4CKO

J4CKO

iTrader: (1)

My grandma had her own stories as well her street got blown up and the whole front of the house was blown out, by a freak of chance they had all just gone into the back, no warning and the bomb landed and destroyed the house, they escaped with minor injuries. Apparently, people thought she had been killed but it was a girl over the road, her friend who had been killed, same age and they looked very similar and people got a bit freaked out when she turned up and they had seen "her" carried out dead.

She mended uniforms, being a seamstress, she found half finished letters from men who had been killed, blood and gore on the clothes but they didnt get wasted.

Iain250

iTrader: (1)

Cracking post my granda henderson was with the 7th armoured in north africa - Rommel got him tho blew the turret of - he was the only one to get out alive - they put him on water tankers in the desert after which was 1000 times worse than tanks as rommel said blow one of these up and you stop or kill 1000 men - im looking at his medals now (i was lucky enough to be left them) 1939-1945 star the north africa star with 8th clasp the italy star the france and germany star and his service medal - the full set- They have and always will have pride of place on my living room wall.

My hero.

RA Dunk

Great stories, the youth of today just don't seem to realise what their Grandparents went through.

Come to think of it our own ******* government seem to have forgotten too.

J4CKO

iTrader: (1)

One of my grandads pals said as he was on the Minesweepers he should have got a medal for his time, he said he wasn't bothered but my grandma pressured him to send them a letter, which he did and decided he did want it after all, he got a letter back saying that unfortunately he was 5 days short of the requisite six months and as such he wouldn't be getting one, miserable *******s, he got told two days before going home to get married that he had to stay on, no if's, no but's and no complaints from him and after that they wouldn't send him a medal for the sake of five days.

Shaid

It is a shame that these events are told through people and documentaries rather than history lessons in school. A lot more interesting and informative than what Henry the eight got upto.

JonMc

iTrader: (51)

I used to spend hours on a Sunday fascinated by my Grandad's stories from his time as first home defence, and then Naval Intelligence. Now I have my own tales to tell my grandkids

Midlife......

iTrader: (2)

My dad (infantry, Salerno, desert warfare, captured, POW Dusseldorf) never spoke of the war as it was just something everyone had to do........everyone that lived came home and started again......

Grandad (first world war) never said much about it either, but I was very young.

Shaun

Shaun

Turbohot

Excellent thread, Jacko. Similar to the one you posted a few years ago; something like "When we were poor.....". I remember crowning that one as the thread of the year.

My paternal grandfather died when my father was a little boy. My maternal grandfather was my best friend. He had to serve for the British Raaj when he was young. That was during the "Kranti" to uproot the Raaj. He never had any story to tell me about his "serving" experiences. I never asked for one either. I remember one of his old mates coming around for an occasional peg of whiskey with him. Perhaps they chit-chatted about those foggy times, perhaps not. However, I remember him as a kind-hearted man of a very few words, a disciplined yoga practitioner, and a very balanced eater. I was about 6 when I deliberately tried to walk through his room while he was meditating with his eyes shut. I had heard that a real yogi would never lose his concentration even if a mouse ran up and down his body, or even if the lightening struck the earth. So I decided to test my grandfather. I tried to quietly tip-toe across his room. I thought he wouldn't hear my footsteps at all, but he did. He opened his eye (just one of the two), let his sight follow me scurrying across the room like a little mouse, shut his eye back, and got back to his meditation. I was very disappointed with him for losing his focus. Anyway, I dreaded to be told off later for disturbing his yoga, but he let the child off the hook without even bringing it up. He died at 95 in 1994. I was living in the UK, then. After hearing the bad news, I just sat down on the sofa, and quietly grieved for my best friend. I read his letters again that I fondly treasured. We always wrote to each other regularly since I was a very little girl. The wise man once advised me on my Niagara Falls reaction to hurtful situations, "Of course, You should cry. But not THAT much." LOL

I have heard many war time stories from the people I know. One person told me that her recognition as a Bootle child was that she had a button or two missing from her dress, and she wore torn shoes. Another person from those times told me that they were given just enough money to buy bread from the shop. Sweets were only bought for special occasions. One person lost one of her babies in a shell shock incident. One sweetest Welsh lady had to work in a mustard gas factory. she put her long coat on every morning, stood on the top of the mountain, and flew down to a place called Rhydymwyn, a few miles away from her village. This flying tale was a bit exaggerated, I thought but hardships claims were credulous. This lady had to work at Rhydymwyn mustard gas factory to feed her family. May they be the stories of poverty, of the glory for proud ex-civil servants, of the war trauma, or of the coal miners' hardships; they are equally fascinating, touching, inspiring and educative.

JTaylor

My father's mother, Nana Taylor, had a cat called ******!

CrisPDuk

My Grandad went through North Africa and Italy as a radio operator, first in Churchills, and later in Shermans.

Up until a couple of years before he died, he very rarely talked of his actual combat experiences, but some of the stories of everyday life in the army often had us all either in stitches, horrified, or just plain speechless

He passed away early last year, and I still miss him like mad

Blue by You

iTrader: (23)

My father served on ack-ack batteries during the war, and 5 of my uncles served in the army in Europe, Africa, and Asia.
When I was young they would all, apart from one who didn't return, recount stories of being in the army or with their serving comrades.
None of them would ever talk about being in action other than in the most general terms. The only 'detail' I ever heard was the account of the uncle who didn't return and was killed whilst trying to escape from a Japanese PoW camp.
One thing I do remember though is that the friends they made in the army, and who survived, remained friends for the rest of their lives. I met a few of them, and it was only as I grew older that I realised they had a special bond that set them apart from others who were just 'mates'.

oldsplice

Nice post, Jacko.

Mr OS was born in Bombay in 1942. I'll ask him tonight if his parents ever spoke of it.

ChefDude

My grandad was, by sheer luck, one of the very last patients to make a ship back to uk, before this happened to the hospital he was in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexand...pital_massacre

Blue by You

iTrader: (23)

In these days of an internet liberally riddled with all the unthinkable inhumanities that happen for all to see (if you wish), we tend to think we're hardened to stuff like this. But this is a truly shocking thing to contemplate.

JTaylor

I understand it was protocol amongst officers to not discuss the horrors of the battlefield with civvies; they'd be mortified that people now seek-out gruesome images for entertainment.

Lee247

Excellent post, J4CKO
My Nana had some fantastic stories. My Mum, as a little girl, used to peek through the black out curtains and shout "Look at the fireworks" Also one story which is vivid in my memories is of a plane, on fire, coming close to my Nana's street of houses. The Pilot died as he guided it away from the houses rather than saving himself.
Also my Grandad was in the RAF and he had horrific stories. Used to keep me rivetted for hours. My other Grandad served in both World Wars in the Army, first one as a very young man and second one in "Dads Army".
Sadly all my Grandparents have now passed, but I have some wonderful memories and stories which I passed on to my Kids

Tidgy

one of my grandads was majorly involved in the developing of radar, miss him dearly

My other grandad was a POW in auschwitz for a number of years, he never spoke of it till my gran died several years back, missed dearly as well.

If you think the films go OTT on what happens inside POW camps and the horros of it think again, if anything they were worse in real life.

http://www.thejc.com/lifestyle/lifes...oned-auschwitz

http://www.metro.co.uk/news/810670-l...s-of-auschwitz

j4ckos mate

My dad's got some interesting stories about being a child in the war,
was brough up in hulme manchester between the docks and trafford park,
so he used to see dog fights and bombers quite often,

The next day he would go and try and find some shrapnel off the bombs,
he remembers quite clearly barrage balloons and emergency water tanks in the street.



He was evacuated with his cousin to a farm in preston,
treated very badly by the farmers wife, given all the off food and told to stay out all day, come rain or shine, whilst her own kids had everything.

My nan found out and where he was sent to, went back up there give her a clout and brought them both back to manchester.

His school was bombed one night, it was built on the site of an old church, the explosion sent all the bones that were underneath the playground flying through the air, all the parents had to pick them up so the kids wouldnt see them.

later when he did his national service, he was in germany on manouvers, a town called xanten i think, he would dig trenches and find bits of guns and bombs and old field telephone wires.
Late one night they had to cross the rhine (very fast flowing)pitch black in a canvas boat, with everything he owned on his back with 8 others and a bren gun carrier, he was terrifed he said, if it sank he wouldnt have stood a chance,,
and cant imagine what the real thing must have been like.

im constantly fascinated by antyhing to do with the war, it should be made compulsary viewing,

slight off topic have a look at Michael bentines wiki page, his war career was incredible

the bravery people shown was breath taking,

J4CKO

iTrader: (1)

The little ***** that were rioting perhaps need to realise how lucky they are in comparison, think kids see old people as a different species but these old fellas have lived more than they ever have or will do, they expect very little and are generally pretty humble about it, staggers me really what a lazy, feckless, greedy and clueless generation we have turned out, not all and not all old soldiers are heros but as a rule it seems that way.

Tidgy

also perhaps those burning poppies and protesting should take stock and think, if people hadn't gone to fight they would have all been executed for not being white.

kinda puts a different slant on things.

j4ckos mate

micheal bentine

n World War II he volunteered for all services when the war broke out (the RAF was his first choice owing to the influence of his father's experience), but was rejected because of his father's Peruvian nationality.[3]

He started his acting career in 1940, in a touring company in Cardiff playing a juvenile lead in Sweet Lavender. He went on to join Robert Atkin's Shakespearean company in Regent's Park, London until he was called up for service in the RAF. He was appearing in a Shakespearean play in doublet and hose in the open-air theatre in London's Hyde Park when two RAF MPs marched on stage and arrested him for desertion. Unknown to him, an RAF conscription notice had been following him for a month as his company toured.

Once in the RAF he went through flight training. He was the penultimate man going through a medical line receiving inoculations for typhoid with the other flight candidates in his class (they were going to Canada to receive new aircraft) when the vaccine ran out. They refilled the bottle to inoculate him and the other man as well. By mistake they loaded a pure culture of typhoid. The other man died immediately, and Bentine was in a coma for six weeks. When he regained consciousness his eyesight was ruined, leaving him myopic for the rest of his life. Since he was no longer physically qualified for flight, he was transferred to RAF Intelligence and seconded to MI9 a unit that was dedicated to supporting resistance movements and help prisoners escape. His immediate superior was the Colditz escapee Airey Neave.

At the end of the war, he took part in the liberation of Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. He said about this experience:

Millions of words have been written about these horror camps, many of them by inmates of those unbelievable places. I’ve tried, without success, to describe it from my own point of view, but the words won’t come. To me Belsen was the ultimate blasphemy.







i cant stop thinking of that person that was swinging from the flag at the cenotaph during the riots. mmmmmm......

Turbohot

Not surprised. Even in today's times, my mum (sorry she didn't fight in any World War and she is not my nana) named her last pomeranian after my British nephew's name. I remember asking her on phone what her new pet was called. She said, "He is called James, if you don't mind." I thought to myself: "FFS, man! Its absolutely true, no mickey taking. But to be fair, over there, they like to name their loved ones (pets etc.) after lovely people's names. He's a good lad.

j4ckos mate

The bravery of little old men who walk past you in the street never ceases to amaze me


we should have one of the bank holidays dedicated to their memory.


where my dad was in his national service (mentioned earlier, Xanten)
over 60000 peple died or were wounded yet i bet nobody has ever heard of it.

i really enjoy reading about tne war and learning about it, from the v1's that were launched on manchester from ther air, to the internment camps in stretford.

i think my fascination was due to staying in and watching the world at war whilst saving up for our house deposit.

my dads got a ww2 german solider id card somewhere, one of the returning soldiers gave it to him as a kid.

it lists all his traing he's done, swimming at night shooting etc.

very interesting stuff

Leslie

Always well worth listening to older folk. They have had far more experience of life and with that comes knowledge.

Surprising what you can learn which is of real value.

Les