Honouring my uncle with a Tower poppy
TWO of my father’s brothers were killed fighting in the Great War, and this led me to buy two of the ceramic poppies that had been on display around the Tower of London. One of my uncles was killed on March 13, 1915, near Merville, in France, and the other on October 10, 1917, at Salonika in Greece. I felt it would be appropriate to commemorate the death of the first brother on the centenary of his death by visiting his grave in France, taking with me one of the ceramic poppies. I travelled to France together with my husband, our son and his partner, to do just this. It was a very emotional visit, and we noticed that other people had done the same. Reading in the Book of Remembrance at the graveyard, it was clear others had visited the graveyard the day before to commemorate family members killed on March 12, 1915, and at least one other ceramic poppy could be seen on a grave. I very much hope that, in due course, I will be able commemorate the death of the second brother, my other uncle, in the same way. I wonder what other people who bought those ceramic poppies have done with theirs?
Mrs PAMELA IVES, Wareham, Dorset. ON MY winter break on Gran Canaria, I came across the article about the shelling of the French fleet in Oran harbour by Admiral Somerville’s squadron in 1940 (Mail). We know the French were given three options — join the Royal Navy in the fight against Germany, sail to British ports and hand over their ships there or sail to neutral ports in the Caribbean — but took none of them, so their fleet was destroyed. We often read about this episode, but rarely about its sequel, when we invaded North Africa and the Vichy French took their revenge. On November 8, 1942, two small ships, carrying about 600 men, including me, crashed the boom across Oran harbour. It was supposed to be a U.S. operation under their flag, but when we realised what was going on, we hauled it down, and hoisted our beloved white ensign. As a result of bad U.S. planning, the operation was a disaster, which might be why it was kept quiet. Both my ship HMS Hartland and HMS Walney were sunk, and we were machine-gunned in the water as we swam. Only about 150 men, including the injured, survived. It was a suicide mission, a complete failure; we never had a hope against the warships moored there and the harbour defences. In future, when you think of Oran again, remember this story as well as what happened to the French fleet.
A. B. FUZZARD, Bexhill-on-Sea, Sussex.