Bruntburger
New member
I visited my Grandad during the week which was long overdue and despite my hectic lifestyle is something I don't do as often as I should.
He has just turned 90 and has many stories. As you'd probably expect, most of these stories are from the Second World War. Some I've heard before, some are boring and some are sad. I don't know why he tells them due to the clear upset they cause him but can only assume that it acts as a kind of therapy to release the trapped emotions.
Anyway, I wanted to share the story he told me this week....
My Grandad and his best friend who are from Liverpool volunteered to fight in the war at the age of 17. Together they were shipped to South Africa to begin training on a mission against the Germans. At this time the Japanese had advanced into India and Burma and the mission was abandoned and my Grandad and his mate sent to Burma to help push back the Japanese.
The good news was that they now fell under American control, which gave them fresh bread and meat everyday compared to the British rations that apparently caused a toughened American soldier to heave at just the sight of!
The Americans also promptly threw away their British guns that often jammed and replaced their worn out boots with a pair of correct size and that my Grandad would have worn back home as his Sunday best.
The bad news was that the battles were fierce and after 4 weeks my Grandad had buried 5 friends including his best mate from Liverpool.
I forgot to mention that during the training back at S Africa. A British corporal who's name I forget. ( my Grandad remarkably remembers every name) took a dislike to one of the trainees. The trainees name was Norman Hales and he was 17 from Blackpool.
Moving back to Burma and the jungle fighting continued. During one such battle, the corporal took a bullet in the knee. As he fell to the ground, Norman spotted him and ran to his aid. The corporal being a typical stiff Brit and disliking Norman shouted a load of abuse at Norman and told him to push on! Now I'm sure the corporal was just acting like a good soldier and roaring his comrades on whilst he dropped in pain, however as my grandad observed, young Norman staggered back and lost his bearings for a split second. Sadly that split second cost him his life as he was shot straight through his chest.
My grandad rushed over and held Norman in his arms as he died. Normans last act was to take off a ring from his finger and hand it to my Grandad and made him promise to give it to his mother and tell her that he loved her.
The war went on and a few weeks later my Grandad was shot in the leg whilst crossing a river and the war was over for him.
To my amazement my Grandad then said he still had the ring in his jewellery box!
He said that after he was released from hospital after 6 months, he wrote to the military to try and tack down Normans family but the the reply discouraged him for fear of upsetting the family further. My Grandad failed to find Normans mum by his own means and therefore for the last 70+ years has kept the ring safe in his wooden box.
I feel that the ring should be returned to the family by my Grandad before he passes himself. Maybe Norman had a younger sister or nephew/niece who may still be alive ?
Why do you guys think? Am I being to sentimental? Is the ring better off with my Grandad now? Does it matter?
Thanks for reading his story.
He has just turned 90 and has many stories. As you'd probably expect, most of these stories are from the Second World War. Some I've heard before, some are boring and some are sad. I don't know why he tells them due to the clear upset they cause him but can only assume that it acts as a kind of therapy to release the trapped emotions.
Anyway, I wanted to share the story he told me this week....
My Grandad and his best friend who are from Liverpool volunteered to fight in the war at the age of 17. Together they were shipped to South Africa to begin training on a mission against the Germans. At this time the Japanese had advanced into India and Burma and the mission was abandoned and my Grandad and his mate sent to Burma to help push back the Japanese.
The good news was that they now fell under American control, which gave them fresh bread and meat everyday compared to the British rations that apparently caused a toughened American soldier to heave at just the sight of!
The Americans also promptly threw away their British guns that often jammed and replaced their worn out boots with a pair of correct size and that my Grandad would have worn back home as his Sunday best.
The bad news was that the battles were fierce and after 4 weeks my Grandad had buried 5 friends including his best mate from Liverpool.
I forgot to mention that during the training back at S Africa. A British corporal who's name I forget. ( my Grandad remarkably remembers every name) took a dislike to one of the trainees. The trainees name was Norman Hales and he was 17 from Blackpool.
Moving back to Burma and the jungle fighting continued. During one such battle, the corporal took a bullet in the knee. As he fell to the ground, Norman spotted him and ran to his aid. The corporal being a typical stiff Brit and disliking Norman shouted a load of abuse at Norman and told him to push on! Now I'm sure the corporal was just acting like a good soldier and roaring his comrades on whilst he dropped in pain, however as my grandad observed, young Norman staggered back and lost his bearings for a split second. Sadly that split second cost him his life as he was shot straight through his chest.
My grandad rushed over and held Norman in his arms as he died. Normans last act was to take off a ring from his finger and hand it to my Grandad and made him promise to give it to his mother and tell her that he loved her.
The war went on and a few weeks later my Grandad was shot in the leg whilst crossing a river and the war was over for him.
To my amazement my Grandad then said he still had the ring in his jewellery box!
He said that after he was released from hospital after 6 months, he wrote to the military to try and tack down Normans family but the the reply discouraged him for fear of upsetting the family further. My Grandad failed to find Normans mum by his own means and therefore for the last 70+ years has kept the ring safe in his wooden box.
I feel that the ring should be returned to the family by my Grandad before he passes himself. Maybe Norman had a younger sister or nephew/niece who may still be alive ?
Why do you guys think? Am I being to sentimental? Is the ring better off with my Grandad now? Does it matter?
Thanks for reading his story.
