Tag: WW2

Remembering my Grandad

GEC logo on the lamp post by the bus stop

This is the lamp post that marks the bus stop where I catch the bus to work in the morning. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of my Grandad, Leslie Clarke.

The initials stand for General Electric Company, now GEC Alstom. GEC had a large site in Stafford, and my Grandad worked for them for many years as a driver of large vehicles.

As far as I know, he was also a driver when he was drafted into the war, but apart from that, I don’t know anything about his involvement. He never spoke about it, and specifically asked me not to wear a poppy, as he didn’t want to be forcibly reminded about the war by people who had never been there. He does have medals, and we know he was in Africa, but that’s about it.

Mostly, when I think of my Grandad, I think of glass bottles of lemonade on the cellar steps, running down his very long garden, and bonfires and fireworks on the edge of the orchard. I miss him very sharply at this time of year, and I wish I could have shown my new garden to him. I think he would have liked it.

Time to rest

19/06/2012

Today I am mostly feeling sorry for myself. Anyone who reads my personal Facebook page would be forgiven for thinking this is nothing unusual – my status is quite often me whingeing about some aspect or other of my health that’s gone a bit wrong. Today’s is quite a spectacular one though – I’ve managed to put my back out. OUCH. I did it yesterday – a particularly annoying finale to what had been a really good weekend!

On Saturday we popped into town with some friends for Reading Town Meal. An annual event, with lots of stalls about wildlife, sustainability and local food – and a free meal, cooked by catering students from the local college, from food donated by local allotment holders and home growers. We sat on a hill in the Forbury Gardens to eat our vegetable curry, beetroot and bean salad, and fruit crumble. Yum!

(Paul didn’t go for the vegetable curry – he bought a massive pork pie from one of the stalls. I have to say it looked good!)

In the afternoon I went to a BIG SING organised by the Witt Studio Chorus. We spent three hours rehearsing a medley of songs from The Sound of Music, and then gave a small performance for friends and family. I used to be a regular member of the chorus, but had to give it up earlier in the year, mainly because I could no longer stay out late on a Wednesday and then be awake and functional in time to go to work on a Thursday. I enjoyed it very much, but I was reminded just how strenuous singing can be – I was exhausted when I got home, and in bed by 9pm!

Twelve hours’ sleep later, on Sunday we made an impromptu trip to Hughendon Manor, where they were having a 1940s WW2 weekend. Again, we had a really good time, enjoying the re-enactment displays, and particularly the talks given by Stephen Wisdom. We’d seen him at one of the big multi-period re-enactment events a few years ago, and Paul couldn’t resist the opportunity to see his “Mr Punch vs Mr Hitler” puppet show again! The weather was so glorious that we sat on the lawn in full sunshine, wondering why on earth we’d come out with scarves and gloves.

When we got home, I wanted to pop round to the corner shop. Unfortunately, as I bent over to pick up my bag, something right across my lower back went PING and caused me to do rather a lot of squealing and hopping and yelling. Oops.

I went to the corner shop on crutches, and spent this morning on crutches too, hissing and ow-ing every time I tried to move. Thankfully a heat pad, a short walk, and some stretching later, and the pain has downgraded to quite severe sciatica, which I can cope with a lot more easily. (As someone with long-term hip problems, I get sciatica a lot.) Hopefully by tomorrow I’ll be well enough to go to work – and I have been very glad that today was my day off!

So, to everyone who thought I was bonkers for doing so much on my previous day off, you’ll be pleased to know that I have actually spent this one resting. I’ve only done a few rows of knitting, I haven’t made anything, I haven’t packed anything for the house move – I’ve just rested. Shame it took a serious complaint from my spine to force me into it, but there you go.

REME Museum of Technology (Part 1)

This morning we paid an impromptu visit to the REME Museum of Technology at Arborfield. We wanted to go somewhere local, but that we’d never been to before, so this fit the bill perfectly. We were both surprised at how big the Museum was, and also how good the displays were. I have to say that we’d looked at the Museum’s website and pre-judged the place a little, so we were very pleasantly surprised when we arrived.

The main Museum building has lots of displays of different types of technology. There are lots of recordings to listen to, a slightly animatronic guard (who told us off for not having shiny boots!), and uniforms for the children to try on. It mostly looks at the period 1939-45, but there are much older objects in the small arms room, and some more recent developments too. We saw communications technology from the Falklands, and photographs of some current equipment being used in Afghanistan.

Medals

These medals made me pause, because I’m fairly certain they’re the same ones that my Grandad had. From left to right they’re The 1939-1945 Star, The Africa Star and The 1939-1945 War Medal. These three were awarded to a driver in Africa, which is pretty much all I know about my Grandad’s role during the Second World War. He drove lorries, and he went to Africa. Beyond that I don’t know anything, because he simply refused to talk about it. When we found my Grandad’s medals, they were still in their original brown cardboard box, ribbons folded, wrapped in paper. They were kept in a drawer in the dining room, underneath the tea towels.

"DANGER"

This little box (about 12cm/5″ square) is part of the food ration and contains, believe it or not, a tiny stove. The tablets warned against on the box are blocks of hexamine – like modern firelighters. I love the way that “DANGER“ has been emphasised with capitals, bold, quotation marks and underlining, just in case you’ve somehow missed the point.

I tried to take pictures of some other glorious examples of typography, but it was a little bit too dark. My favourite leaflet was a set of instructions for what to do if you should escape after having been taken prisoner. Seventeen pieces of advice, beginning with “Air your feet” and ending with “DO NOT GET FLUSTERED”. Not quite as snappy as “KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON”, but important advice nonetheless!

You can see more photos here.