#Remembering

Today on Rememberance Sunday as well as thinking about all the fallen of both world wars and conflicts since, I've been thinking about my dad.

He came from a small village in Northumberland where work opportunities were few.  He tried working on a farm but was sacked for telling the farmer he had milked all the cows when he had only milked half of them.  There was also a short stint down the mine but he hated that. 

At the age of 16 in 1936 he joined the Royal Navy.  I have a letter sent by his friend Basil when my dad died and in this he said:  'The day he joined the navy I played truant from school and we went to the the recruiting office at Rye Hill, Newcastle.'  Basil himself went on to join the Royal Navy a few years later.

In another letter Basil wrote::  I'll always remember the day in 1942.  I was on a Fleet Oiler at the time called 'The Echodale' stationed at Freetown, West Africa.  It was a hot afternoon and I was on the boat deck making a sail.  All I heard was a norther accent say 'Come on Jock, I think it is around here.'  Well you can imagine how surprised and happy I was to see your dad.  He'd remembered my ship.  They had called in for oil and stores on the way home from the Med.  He'd transferred from HMS Janus to The Wild Swan.  She was a wreck.  I went aboard the next morning.  They had no cups left and drank tea out of bottoms of beer bottles, cut off with a glass-cutter and the sharp edges filed down.  We had a great time because we had loads of gin and whiskey at seven shillings and sixpence a bottle.'

He continued by saying: 'I was on that ship two and a half years without coming home.  Went away when I was 18 and come home at the age of 21, but meeting your dad, so far away from home was the highlight of the trip'.

My dad was in the navy for 10 years and did 2 years in The Reserves.  He died suddenly when I was 30.  He often talked about the war and especially his time on submarines and I'm ashamed to say I often thought 'He's off again.'  I really regret that and so wish that I had listened to his stories.  Sorry dad!