tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17982156969847406642024-02-20T11:10:38.754+00:00The Neil McLellan StoryNeil McLellan, a Sergeant in the 202 Anti-Tank (Isle of Bute) Battery, of The Royal Artillery, 51st Highland Division, during the Second World War.
Neil spent 5 years as a POW in Stalag XXA, Thorn, Poland. Using his skills as a Photographer, he risked his own life helping others escape. Attending funerals of fellow POW’s Neil would later use the photographs to trace families of the fallen.
This blog, as told by his Grandson Colin Fulcher, follows the quest to publish his great story.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-78180960430243204752016-05-10T18:32:00.002+01:002016-05-10T18:33:36.002+01:00Happy 100th Birthday NeilMy Nephew, Nyall Galloway, turns 18 today. As he marks this major milestone there's another birthday on my mind. Today, also marks the 100th Birthday of my Grandfather, Neil.<br />
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So tonight, with fond memories and great respect, I'll raise a glass to this great man.</div>
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Here's to you Gag. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-19778133612693491102016-03-31T23:25:00.000+01:002016-05-10T01:12:18.951+01:0020 years on; Keep me in your hearts, I'll stay there forever. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">On Sunday 31st March 1996, exactly 20 years ago today. Neil,
passed away peacefully at 11:25pm, surrounded by his family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Born on the 10th of May, 1916, will see this year, mark
Neil's 100th Birthday. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In this same year, on Tuesday 9th February, my partner Ilze, gave
birth to our first Child. A beautiful baby girl, we named Amelia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Looking at pictures of a cartoon character on her nursery
wall. I was reminded of a simple quote from the famous bear himself that reminded me of my Grandfather;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><o:p>These words are so true, that day arrived me some 20 years ago too. Through this story and my memories of him I've held forever, I can now pass this on to my Daughter, ensuring his memory will last forever.</o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><o:p>RIP Gag...</o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-35391484246905271122015-07-16T15:23:00.000+01:002015-07-16T15:48:10.334+01:00Neil's memories of AntonyThe rededication service for Antony Ronald Coulthard will take place on Thursday 30th July 2015. <br />
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As the service approaches two weeks today, I have been looking through some of the written memories within my Grandfathers Story, about his friend "Tony" as he called him. <br />
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Having been approved by "The Escape Committee" within the Camp, Neil was informed of the person who would be accompanying him on their attempt for freedom.<br />
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Speaking perfect German, proved to be a great advantage for the two men, on their first encounter with a Guard at the gates of the POW Camp;<br />
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Having been captured at the port of Gdansk the two men were eventually returned to the POW Camp. Later they would become part of a notorious and well documented "Escape Committee". <br />
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Mentioned in official MI9 intelligence documents;<br />
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Thinking back on what could have been;<br />
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Christmas 1944, although unknown at that time, would sadly be Antony's last. How fitting it must have been for Neil, knowing he was able to share this time with his good friend;<br />
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Four weeks later the men within Stalag XXA left the camp, being force marched in sub zero conditions through Poland, into Germany. It was during this march Antony, sadly passed away;<br />
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Yesterday I received a message from Antony's Niece, Barbara Willoughby-Thomas. How fitting and symbolic that they have chosen a wreath of Apple Blossoms for his grave. <br />
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It is with a heavy heart, though with pride as Neil's Grandson, that I will stand beside Barbara and others from Antony's family, at his final resting place in two weeks time. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-42960566287726241102015-06-12T09:23:00.000+01:002015-07-16T15:47:30.596+01:0075th Anniversary of the 51st Highland Division Surrender – The beginning of Neil’s captivity <br />
Today at 10am, marks the exact moment Neil’s journey as a POW began in St. Valery, France. <br />
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General Fortune considered all the options, a counter attack, further resistance, retaking the town but against this there was no possibility of evacuation or support, the men were exhausted and virtually out of ammunition, with no artillery ammunition at all. Shortly before 1000hrs on the 12th June General Fortune took the most difficult of decisions - to surrender.<br />
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I remember my Grandad recalling this moment; <br />
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“Word started to spread round the Lads, something was happening.”<br />
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“Some men were cheering and celebrating shouting it’s over!, It’s over”<br />
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Rumours were rife, the men were misinformed and reality soon set in. The Division, had surrendered and they would now be classed as Prisoners of War. <br />
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“I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears”, Neil said. <br />
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“I looked around and some of the Men were in tears. We just didn’t know what was going to happen to us from now on”<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-51786171498835450192015-03-24T18:23:00.000+00:002015-07-16T15:47:51.298+01:00Rest easy Grandad, your Friend has now been found. Unmarked Soldier's grave formally recognised as Antony's It was with much delight and a touch of emotion, I received the following message this morning;<br />
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<em>"Hi Colin, The unmarked grave @ Plot XVIII Row C, Grave 2, Becklingen War Cemetery, Soltau, Germany, will be marked as Antony's!"</em><br />
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Sent to me this morning by Barbara Willoughby-Thomas, the niece of Antony Coulthard. What fitting news to receive on this day, 70 years exactly to the day of Antony's passing. <br />
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Steve Foster, who's Father Fred Foster, a Sgt. also in the same POW Camp as Antony and Neil, received the email from the MOD, informing him of the decision. Steve worked very hard and submitted a vast amount of evidence and detail to the MOD previously, in hope that they would be able to recognise Antony's final resting place.<br />
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A Rededication Ceremony with a full military service, will now be arranged for an appropriate date in July/August. <br />
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I am now looking forward to attending this ceremony with some mixed emotions;<br />
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To meeting Barbara and Steve for the first time. Three of us, descendants of the three men who were also listed together in official MI9 Documents as persistent escapers.<br />
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To know that this great man's final resting place has been recognised and the closure is must bring his family.<br />
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To finally know a wish my Grandfather told me, of his friend, is being granted. <br />
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The following excerpt from the manuscript of my Grandfathers Book, describes this moment perfectly;<br />
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<em>"Forever will the beauty of an Apple Blossom remind him of his friend and the pointless death he suffered. Back in his home town of Rothesay, there is an Apple Tree that stands in the grounds of the towns famous castle, Neil thought of that tree. Even today, forty years on, when that tree or any other tree is in blossom he is reminded of his friend and silently prays in remembrance."</em> <br />
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The person recording my Grandfathers thoughts at the time, also stated; <br />
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<em>"During my Interviews with Neil, I have never seen him so disturbed and tearful, as he talks about his friend Antony Coulthard"</em><br />
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<em>"Up to this date Neil has never been able to trace any known resting place for his friend Tony. It is his wish that one day, this will be known."</em><br />
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Rest easy Grandad, you're Friend has now been found!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-72556010718476399762015-01-25T18:23:00.000+00:002015-01-26T12:11:24.842+00:00A Burns Night he would never forget, 70 years ago today!<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“The 25<sup>th</sup> Jan 1945,
Burns Night, a night many of the Prisoners would never forget.” Words I
remember my Grandad saying many years ago, as he told me yet another
amazing story of his time during the Second World War. After what seemed like
an eternity in a POW Camp, this was the night he had finally waited for, the
beginning of his journey back home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unfortunately the high spirit of
many of the POW’s that night did not last long. This was to be the beginning of
a notorious “Long march to freedom” across Poland and into Germany, in freezing temperatures well below zero. This event lead to many deaths, some of which
Neil’s closet friends, he met during his time in the camp. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One such friend, Anthony
Coulthard, a great friend of Neil’s, accompanied him on that March.
Unfortunately Anthony’s condition deteriorated during the March and he didn’t
make their final destination. His final resting place was not known following
the war and this was something my grandfather always thought about on Armistice
Day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two years ago, through the power of the internet I managed to trace a relative
of Anthony and the son of another fellow POW. It was with much delight that
that we were in contact with each other, with the same task in mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Months of
research and visits to various sites had taken place with one aim in mind. An
unmarked grave of a British Soldier, near to the spot where he passed away has
been found. It is now hoped that Anthony’s final resting place has been found. Using
documented eye witness accounts including information from my Grandad's book, the evidence is strong enough that Ministry of
Defence are now looking at the case. A long and arduous process that will
hopefully provide his family with closure and a wish my grandfather would have
been so happy to have granted.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Epitaph On A Friend - Robert Burns</b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">An honest man here lies at rest,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The friend of man, the friend of truth,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The friend of age, and guide of youth:</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Few hearts like his, with virtue warm'd,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Few heads with knowledge so inform'd;</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If there's another world, he lives in bliss;</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If there is none, he made the best of this.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Robert Burns, 1784</b></span></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-46797335432129798882014-12-24T12:23:00.000+00:002015-01-26T11:32:04.474+00:00The 1914 Christmas Truce - 100 years to the dayAmongst the many stories my Grandad used to tell me, there was one that always stood out at this time of year. Two years before Neil was born, in a battlefield far away, a miracle as many believed, was about to happen.<br />
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On Christmas Eve in December 1914, Troops on both sides of the trenches decorated their posts with Christmas Trees and candles. Echoes of Christmas carols could be heard from both sides of the battlefield. Something strange was beginning to happen.<br />
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On Christmas Day, word was spreading throughout the British trenches of an organised truce and that all should take part. Not knowing if this was truth or perhaps a hoax, one British soldier took the brave step of lifting his head above the parapet and looked towards the other side. To his astonishment he could see soldiers from both sides walking towards the each other. Exchanging gifts such as chocolates and cigarettes.<br />
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Another soldier recalled how he climbed up the ladder and walked across no man's land to meet a German Officer. Both looked at one another and exchanged a firm handshake that would have never been expected. The German Officer admired one of the buttons on the British Officer's uniform. Realising this, the British Officer produced a pair of wire cutters from his tunic pocket, removed the button and passed it to the German Officer. The German officer smiled, took the cutters and removed one of his own and passed it to the British Officer, in the same gesture.<br />
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Many similar events happened that day, including a notorious game of football between both sides.<br />
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Unfortunately the christmas spirit did not last and war soon returned, for the next 4 years.<br />
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The events of that day proved that even in the darkest of times, humans can be human. A truly remarkable story and one that will hopefully live on in the memories of others, for the next 100 years.<br />
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Merry Christmas to you all!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-46440515644672299292014-09-03T16:23:00.000+01:002014-09-03T17:17:51.928+01:00The Second World War - 75 Years to the day<div style="text-align: left;">
75 Years ago today Britain declared war on Germany, the start of The Second World War. </div>
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On the morning of the 3rd of September 1939, the then Prime Minister, Nevil Chamberlin, announced to the nation at 11am that a state of war now existed between Britain and Germany.<br />
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On this same day Bute’s Territorial Forces otherwise known as “The Bute Battery”, along with a Troop from Millport, were order to take position on Rothesay’s local Golf Course near a site known to many as the “Co-Camps”.<br />
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At this time Sgt Neil McLellan, was ordered to take charge of his gun crew. Training hard they prepared for an expected invasion and were ready to defend the Island from any attack from the air.<br />
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Few could have foreseen the impact the next 6 years would have, or what was to come next!<br />
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War had come to Bute!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-85024524755379224462014-06-06T11:23:00.000+01:002014-06-06T11:23:03.245+01:00D-Day 70th Anniversary Remembered<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today marks the 70th Anniversary of the D Day landings in Normandy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">On this day 156,000 allied Troops stormed the beaches of France, in what has widely become known as the beginning of the end, of the Second World War. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Amongst those, 61,715 British Troops landed on the Gold, Juno and Sword beaches including Airborne Troops.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">20 Years ago, the Isle of Bute marked the 50th Anniversary of this important day. A fresh looking and newly reconstructed Guilford Square, was crowded with locals who turned out to mark the occasion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">One man in particular stood out from the crowd, reflections from the medals on his chest caught the eye of many a passer-by. Turning out to remember those who lost their lives on that day 50 years ago, I accompanied my Grandad on this day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Pictured below in the local paper (The Buteman), marking the occasion in June 1994, My Grandad Neil McLellan. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWvBPr6kKtDrUqASxuFJirYwOiEtbWb454JMm07lzRqg2hJK8Rj3xDkgAwkWJEGMTpvl0gZ_cQnuF00D4QNXFUR7IBR9QesPJLmnRxu-qu4GLL77VXzTCGiwQ9g60o7jrUtawdS2XJZA/s1600/D-Day+50th+Anniversary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWvBPr6kKtDrUqASxuFJirYwOiEtbWb454JMm07lzRqg2hJK8Rj3xDkgAwkWJEGMTpvl0gZ_cQnuF00D4QNXFUR7IBR9QesPJLmnRxu-qu4GLL77VXzTCGiwQ9g60o7jrUtawdS2XJZA/s1600/D-Day+50th+Anniversary.jpg" height="320" width="269" /></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them!"</span></em></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-91082060340339541082014-05-10T20:23:00.000+01:002014-05-10T20:19:50.526+01:00Two family Birthday's<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10th May 1916, a boy was born on the Isle of Bute. Neil McLellan, named after his own father, my Grandad was born 98 years ago today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the very same day in 1998, his Great Grandson, Nyall Galloway was born. Two years after Neil passed away on the 31st March 1996, it was a blessing they both now shared the same Birthday! </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-41432388547185372582014-05-02T14:23:00.000+01:002014-05-02T14:45:32.987+01:00How did it all happen; Tuesday Afternoons<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like most days after School, on my way home I would call in to my Grandad's house in Prospect Terrace, Ballochgoy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Tuesday afternoon was always particularly interesting however. His friend, a local Caseworker for SSAFA (Soldiers Sailors Airforcemen Association), would arrive at two o'clock. With the accuracy of a military watch, Neil would have the kettle on and two cups ready five minutes before. As soon as the nearby school bell rang there would be another cup, as he always knew I would not be too far behind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The Caseworker's mission was to discuss, record and note the events surrounding my Grandad's time during the Second World War. His objective, was to present a legacy for Neil's family to remember him, a lasting record of this brave man's journey through battle and captivity to freedom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Tuesday afternoons became a regular occassion and something I would always look forward to. Hearing the stories first hand, I was priviledged and proud just to sit and listen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">No PC's, laptops, word processors in sight. Not even the Internet as we rely on it today, had played any part in this task. Simply a notepad, dictaphone and pen would sit on the table beside the important cups of tea and Neil's two budgies. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So as the weeks and month's passed Neil's Story gathered pace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1798215696984740664.post-30933454854003821182014-05-01T15:23:00.000+01:002014-05-02T14:42:43.278+01:00Welcome! Where do I begin?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hello,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many a day I would spend in my Grandad's Living Room, listening to stories he would tell me about his life during the Second World War and his time within the Prisoner of War camp Stalag XXA. With a cup of his great tea in hand, I would sit like a transfixed young boy watching a gripping action movie.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the time I did not realise, how privileged I was, being the only family member to be told his stories of the 5 years in captivity. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like many other Prisoners of War, the trauma, experience and memories of those years would silence him for many years after release. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the decade I grew up as a child the 1980's. I always remember a small tin that he kept hidden in his wardrobe. He always protected this tin and would not like anyone going inspecting its contents. Mischievous as you would expect a young boy to be. I remember taking a look to find many photographs of Soldiers, theatre plays and boxing matches. Many of the these photographs were of graves, funeral processions and close ups of wooden crossed markers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The mystery only lead to my questions and so their stories began to unfold...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10329041992477959882noreply@blogger.com0