‘What did you do in the war, Grandpa?’
To us, our granddads were old men, but there was a time when they were young and eager to sign up to fight for King and country. Yours writer Marion Clarke shares memories of our granddads’ wartime experiences
This month sees the centenary of the Armistice that marked the end of the First World War, so it’s a fitting occasion to remember our grandfathers who lived through that terrible time. I still have some postcards my own grandfather sent home from the Front, each one so carefully worded in order to get past the censor that you would almost think he was there on holiday, not in the heat of battle.
Granddad died when I was nine so we never had a chance to talk about his time as a soldier, but Susan Baskett says her grandfather loved to entertain visitors with tales from the trenches: “He was larger-than-life and 6ft tall, a former grenadier guard who was wounded but survived the war. I wish I had written down all his stories. As he grew older, his war wounds gave him arthritis, but he soldiered on with just aspirin to dull the pain.
‘He was larger-than-life and 6ft tall… I wish I had written down all his stories’
“He never lost his sense of humour, though, and I can still hear him laughing loudly at The Goodies who used to be on TV at Saturday teatime. And he loved Dad’s Army too, of course.”
Margaret Kimberley’s grandfather (who she called Gong Gong) kept his sense of humour, too, despite a life-changing injury: “He volunteered at the age of 16 and was sent to France where he was wounded in the leg. At a field hospital in Boulogne a Canadian surgeon amputated his right leg and he was fitted with a metal limb. Years later, when I was little, Gong Gong would play a game with me in which he rolled up his trouser leg, then gave me some pennies to ‘post’ in the knee joint of his false leg. We would both laugh as we listened to them clinking their way down to his foot!”
Like many veterans, John Langford’s grandfather was reluctant to dwell too much on his time in the army: “He was a Royal Engineer for the six years of the Second World War. When I asked about it he would tell me he was in a tank, had knocked down a tree and killed a pig. He meant the world to me and taught me to read before I started primary school. When I was young he took me to visit places of interest in London and we went to football matches together.”
Although he died in 1957 when she was only ten, Mary Twentyman also has happy memories of time she spent with her grandfather, John Herbert Moss: “On wet days when we couldn’t go out in the garden he used to sit on the stairs with me and pretend we were going to market. He would ‘drive’ the cart and gee up the horses as we made our way to Nottingham, driving geese before us and with a monkey on our shoulder. (I don’t know where the monkey fitted in!)
“Much later, when I researched our family history, I learned that before becoming a tram driver, he had worked with his father as a horse breaker and dealer. During the First World War he joined the Duke of Wellington’s Regiment, attained the rank of
Above: some of our granddads worked with horses.
This photo (left) was taken of Sybil Davey’s grandfather, William E Allen, when he was an air-raid warden in the Second World War: “A kind and gentle man, he told me stories of the Boar War and First World War with tears in his eyes.”
Sergeant Major and was awarded a distinguished conduct medal.”
Pop was Jan Gardiner’s name for her ‘very special’ grandfather. His wartime role as a saddle and harness maker is a reminder of the vital role played by horses, as shown in the film Warhorse. In peacetime he continued to work with leather, repairing shoes for his neighbours or making leather bags for bowling balls. “He did not get on with NaNa who he called ‘grizzling granny’ and she would reciprocate, saying, ‘The old goat, you couldn’t kill him with an axe’. Instead of sitting in the kitchen with NaNa, I longed to be out chatting to Pop in his shed (which he called his dugout), listening to the football scores on his old radio.”
The garden shed was where most granddads were traditionally found, shirt sleeves rolled up, happily planing a piece of wood or, in the case of Beryl Pearce’s granddad, mending all the family’s boots and shoes. “He was a truly gentle man who survived the First World War with shell shock and was our air-raid warden in the Second World War. When we moved from our two up-two down to a brand-new council house, he helped us by carting our goods and chattels in his wheelbarrow.” Remembrance Day is particularly special for Hayley Conway who has played the cornet since she was seven: “I play The Last Post and Reveille at local church services and when my granddad was alive he used
‘Instead of sitting with NaNa, I longed to be out chatting to Pop in his shed which he called his dug-out’
to stand by my side and time the two minutes’ silence for me. He would recite the epitaphs at the chapel we both attended and also laid a wreath each year as he was one of the last surviving men who had served on the Arctic Convoys.
“Each year when I perform I still feel my granddad is watching over me and helping me to play perfectly.”