REMEMBERING THE FALLEN
I read with interest the article by Alan Cochrane in the March issue of Scottish Field, about St. Valery and the 51st [Onwards and upwards, p50]. My father, then a major in the TA, was also taken prisoner there and then spent four and a half years in captivity. He had many good friends in the 51st, including Tony Bruce, Nogie Dundas (I don’t know his real name) and Paul Nason. I was too young to really understand it all then, but certainly knew Tony and his family in Aberdeen.
My husband and I also visited St. Valery and found the cemetery very moving – a blackbird was singing its heart out, and it was so beautifully kept. They were all so young that we wept as we walked among the headstones. Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) was not recognised in those days, and although many men certainly displayed its symptoms, we all just got on with it.
In 1999 I was amazed and proud to find an obituary of my father, Lieutenant-Colonel John Chillingworth DSO, in The Telegraph. His charger was called Black Mountain. I remember knocking over his highly polished riding boots and getting a ticking-off from his batman, who had just polished them.
He returned on Friday 13 April at 6.30am. I ran barefoot down the path and into his arms and remained sitting on his knee – not a bit shy, thanks to my mother who always spoke of him to us. When we got the news the evening before, I was playing in my wigwam and having bread and butter. In the excitement the dog ate the butter and I recall being mortified at its loss, butter being rationed. Oh goodness, how I remember it all so well.
Elizabeth (lou) Lidderdale, Leven