Extraordinary lives
MY DAD DENIS
DAD grew up in Guyana in South America and as a mischievous child would scamper up mango trees and chase tarantulas. When he and his brother Jack were in their late teens, their Belgian mother brought them to Britain, where they joined the Army. With the 3rd Royal Tank Regiment, Dad was sent to help the Dunkirk evacuation. A hail of bullets peppered his tank and he shouted to the driver to get off the road, saving their lives. But their luck ran out when they were captured by the Germans. Along with hundreds of other soldiers, Dad was force-marched through France, surviving on scraps of food. A fellow soldier told him Jack was on the march and they were delighted to be reunited. They would need each other’s support to survive the horrors of five years as PoWs. At the Stalag VIII-B camp in Silesia, the brothers worked in a sugar factory and then a quarry, cutting and carrying heavy rocks. When a German officer asked if there was a pharmacist among the prisoners, my father pretended he was so he could escape the back-breaking work. Conditions were tough, but the Russian prisoners in a nearby camp suffered even more. Dad
gave away some of his precious food ration to one man and in return received a ring with the hammer and sickle insignia. With the Soviet Army advancing on the Eastern Front, the Nazis evacuated the PoW camps to delay the liberation of the prisoners. Many died on the death marches in sub-zero temperatures. Dad and Jack, resourceful as ever, lined their clothes with newspapers to keep warm. After the war, my father toured Europe, where he says he drank the bars dry!
He met my mother Maureen at a Richmond dance club, but they soon went their separate ways. Mum moved to South Africa and got engaged to a soldier, while Dad proposed to a French woman. But on a visit back home, Mum met Dad again and they realised they wanted to be together. A union of more than 50 years resulted in three daughters and three grandsons. No wonder Dad disappeared to the shed for peace and quiet! Dad enjoyed a career at Shell as a statistician. When he retired, my parents visited
Costa Rica, Hong Kong, China, the Canaries, the Balearics and India. In his 90s, he was still driving, cooking and travelling to his holiday home in Majorca. One of my final memories of Dad was just two weeks before he died: he and his young carer convulsed in laughter watching Only Fools And Horses. The ring from the Russian prisoner will stay in our family, a symbol of kindness, sharing and survival.
DENIS JULY, born May 24, 1919; died July 12, 2020, aged 101.