Arthur & Douglas

-

 

I've mentioned before at some point my uncle Arthur's involvement in Operation Market Garden in World War Two. He never, ever, talked about anything he did or witnessed then or before, so I've always been in the dark about his experiences at the time. I was rooting around the other day in one of the large boxes of family photographs that we possess, and came across this one, taken in Italy, showing Arthur on the left, his Airborne patch clearly visible on his right arm, and his cousin, Douglas, to his left. I'd heard the family story about how the two of them met by accident on a railway platform at Brindisi: Arthur in the First Airborne and Douglas a Navy boy [his attire in this photograph appears to be a bit non-standard apart from his cap]; having been separated for some time by the war.

Up until now, though, I'd always believed that their meeting was on their way to demob after the war; but this photograph is dated 1943: before Market Garden and well before Armistice. The date gives me a clue as to why and how the two happened to be where they were at that time: Brindisi was occupied by the First Airborne on the eleventh of September 1943, three days after the Italians capitulated. So, Arthur must have been shipped home after campaigning in Italy, only to be flown out the following year in a glider, to be captured at Arnhem in the ill-fated Market Garden op, and end up as a prisoner in a German POW camp. It's no wonder he never talked about his wartime experiences: he must have been through some hellish shit...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Of Feedback & Wobbles

-
Image
Many years ago I came up with an analogy for poorly damped feedback loops. The feedback loop that prompted this frankly tart analogy was indeed a horror. Anyone who remembers shame-faced their first attempts at clutch control resulting in the good old kangaroo launch across the lights only to stall in the middle of the crossroads will have some idea of the kind of data transfer lag involved in said system. The analogy I made was that of a large blancmange. Untouched, a model of stasis and eminently stable and predictable; but prod the bugger and the resultant chaotic behaviour needs a very complex physical model and some very decent computing horsepower to predict its outputs, if at all. The system in question was a large and complex audio-visual display at what eventually became 'The Electric Mountain' in Llanberis. We were ultimately contracted to maintain the thing having been witness to and peripherally involved in its installation. Certainly not involved in its des...
Read more

A Time of Connection

-
Image
I was just reflecting on the vacuum of continuity that's left behind when someone dies: that sudden sense of disjoint, of fracture, in one's personal history that takes one completely by surprise at the oddest moments. These pinch-points in memory can often yield some surprising revelations of fact about periods in one's past. One such occurred to me tonight, tending my rather lazy meal of pizza in its journey from shrink-wrap to mouth via the oven. Al's recent demise still catches me out from time to time: the space he left bounded by forty plus years of friendship. But the thing that struck me tonight was just how much change was happening on a personal and social level in the very early years of our acquaintance. Between moving here from Birmingham in September 1980 and our buying our first proper house eighteen months later, all manner of things occurred that would chart the course of our lives to the present day. At around the time of our meeting Alan & Irene [...
Read more

Sister Ray

-
Image
Ray Keats - aka Ann Key - local artist & family friend, died this morning. She'd been ill for some years, but never let it get in the way of her work or of tending to the massive network of friends, colleagues and fans she had accumulated over the decades. Her house on the High Street of Rachub, just below where we live - a former cockle factory(!) - bought many years ago when she and her late husband Ronald moved here from Manchester to set up home in Yr Achub, is currently still home to her paintings and drawings, and the front window displays her work, including the last drawing she made in hospital, just days before she died. Her good friend Colin has been a diamond in her latter years, looking out for her and just being there when she needed him. She will be much missed by this tiny community of ageing bohemians up here in the hills, but suffice it to say, George, her cat, will be well looked after now she's gone.
Read more