Beau Peep Notice Board
Beau Peep Notice Board => Outpourings => Topic started by: Joan on August 03, 2009, 04:10:06 AM
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I'm the last person to reply to the most recent topic and it stays like that for ages. I begin to think, "What did I say?". I've been posting on forums for years and I still get insecure about what I've effectively published. Mind you, I don't worry about it so much on this one - much prefer this to any of the others I've posted on - not only because there's a relatively small number of active posters, but because the majority are male. Before you get your knickers in a twist, girls, it's because on every female dominated forum I've frequented, there has always been some major nasty blow-up - don't know whether it's because of the female hormones, or just that most of them had a wider section of the community posting, with some not very nice people included. Here, nothing ever gets beyond the odd bit of ragging, which is a big relief. You men are probably all bitching behind the scenes, but that's fine - just keep it there.
See, this is one of the advantages of Facebook - you can pick who reads what you say and with whom you associate. I've just spent the weekend having a family photo fest with my cousin who lives in Geneva. Before she joined Facebook I'd spoken to her once in about the last 30 years. Then my other cousin's daughter who lives in Oregon in the US joined in and her mum (my cousin) and dad just happened to be visiting from the UK, so she showed them the photos and I got to see all the ones of them. Meanwhile, another cousin's son in Helensburgh showed his parents the photos and I got to see the photos he'd taken of them and his sister and her kids who are visiting from Dubai. We're a pretty far flung bunch of Scots - this is my mother's side of the family - there were 8 female cousins and I was the baby - the rest are all a lot older than I am (yes, that is still possible) so I didn't really see a lot of them once they moved and settled down. It's great to have this contact again, especially to see their children's families and be able to talk 'live' when we happen to be there at the same time.
If you're interested, this is the earliest photo we have of the family. There were 11 children - only 10 in this photo, the last one wasn't born yet, poor great grandmother. She looks pretty good for having had 10. They were staunch protestants too - must have been the Victorian thing. Look at the age difference between them. Mum used to have some letters great grandfather wrote to the ones that were away from home - interesting, but he was a pious old bloke - always lecturing them and quoting the bible, which was probably par for the course, but extremely annoying to us - my Mum got so angry when she read them. Funny thing was my grandfather (on the left with his arm resting on the chair) was nothing like that. I'll just put the link in and then if you want to have a look, you'll get all the info.
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2358036&l=ab0d5ab413&id=565053498
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That is a cool photo. They look like they were well-to-do and your granddad looks like a sweety. My cousin sent me a photo of the great-grandparents or was it the great-great, it was funny as I knew nothing of the family but had picked out many of the same names for my dogs.
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Thanks for sharing your family history, Joan. Very few people seem to keep family records nowadays, so there's very little sense of 'belonging'. Being an only child, I envy anyone with siblings and cousins; it must be great to have so many with a shared origin, who know where they've come from.
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Something I plan to do, when I have a bit more time, is look into my family history. My grandfather, a lovely man, was an artist and HIS father was a successful poet in Shetland. That's about as far as I can go back on my mother's side. My own father was born in the U.S. Virgin Isles to a French mother and an English father and goodness knows what happened before that. I suspect the royal blood of Europe courses through my veins.
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Roger, does this mean we should start taking curtsy lessons?
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That would be nice.
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I?m curtsying now.
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You may rise.
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Would if I could Master Kettle.
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As an interesting (perhaps) sideline to this conversation, how many of you would accept an official honour? You know, Knight, Dame, O.B.E. whatever. I wouldn't. (And, yes, I realise that the actual offer is hugely unlikely to be made). My grandfather--who I mentioned briefly on another thread--was a bit of a hero of mine and I hung on his every word. He was vehemently, yet humourously, anti-royal. I really couldn't let him down by swanning along to Buck House. The rest of you?
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No, I wouldn't, for the following reasons:
I would never do anything that warranted such an honour;
The thought of the whole rigmarole of going to Buck House and having to 'perform' in such a stylised way would make me pee my pants;
I haven't got a thing to wear!
[I am extremely pro-royal - much to the chagrin of my children!]
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Love the photo, Joan! I don't think I've seen any photos of my great grandparents... there's something for me to look into!
I used to feel paranoid if no-one posted after me, but then I started to think of myself as a showstopper and no-one could top my last post. It doesn't matter to me now if I'm a showstopper or not! ;D
I'd love an official honour, Roger, but I'd have to keep it quiet. Well, until I need to use it. I think I may have some unofficial ones.
You can still call me Tom.
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It is irritating how some people flaunt their titles.
Sincerely,
Diane C.B.P.F.C.
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It is irritating how some people flaunt their titles.
Sincerely,
Diane C.B.P.F.C.
;D
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It is irritating how some people flaunt their titles.
Sincerely,
Diane C.B.P.F.C.
i agree
robbie b.s.c.
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Roger, I'm the same - avowedly anti-Royalist. Over here in Oz, they have the Order of Australia, which is the highest honour bestowed by the country, but it's given to more than a few dodgy characters, very much a who-you-know thing. You can even nominate yourself, in a roundabout way.
I'd accept the Legion D'Honneur or the Order of the Elephant, though.
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I'd forgotten about this thread. I was going to say, if I were offered an honour (a very remote possibility, not only because I don't know anyone in the who-you-know category) I'd only get to go to Government House and have it handed over by the Governer-General - not very exciting anyway.
I have mixed feelings about the royals. The longer I live here, the more I think they are superfluous to Australia these days. Just not sure what the alternative should be, but I think when the Queen goes it will definitely be an issue here again - not that it's stopped, there just isn't as much noise about republicanism as there used to be. Probably too many other things going on.
My grandfather did go to Buckingham Palace to accept an award in 1942 - a proud occasion, but tinged with a lot of sadness. In those family photos on Facebook, Diane, you may have noticed there are more of my Uncle Ken than anyone else - that's because he died in action in April 1941 at the age of 23. He was awarded the Victoria Cross posthumously. Ken (Kenneth Campbell) and his crew torpedoed the German battleship, Gneisenau, in Brest harbour and put it out of action for several months. There was no hope of them flying out of the harbour with the anti-aircraft guns and the ships firing at them. The Germans got them out of the harbour and buried them with full military honours. For nearly a year, the family only knew that he was missing in action, then news filtered through from the French Resistance about what had happened.
He was the youngest of six children - three girls and three boys. My mother was the second youngest and she was very close to Ken. In fact, she spent three years in South Africa and was on her way home in 1939 on a German "banana boat", having such a good time on board that she decided she would keep going to Hamburg. She must have wired that she was going to do this, because Ken went down to Southampton and dragged her off the ship - Germany not a good place to be at that time.
Uncle Ken's squadron was 22 Squadron (http://www.raf.mod.uk/organisation/22squadron.cfm) which now operates the Seaking rescue helicopters. They did have a plaque commemorating him on one of their Seakings, but not sure if it's still there. He has an RAF VC10 (http://www.raf.mod.uk/equipment/vc10.cfm) named after him (http://www.airsceneuk.org.uk/hangar/2002/vc10/vc10.htm) - I believe it's still flying.
A few links that give more detail:
The National Archives have a copy of a drawing and the citation - bottom right corner. I doubt that he "went cheerfully and resolutely to his task." but I suppose at that time they felt they had to put a bit of progandaish type language in.
http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/theartofwar/valgal/valour/INF3_0424.htm (http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/theartofwar/valgal/valour/INF3_0424.htm)
This one has only recently been published, but it gives a bit more detail of his history. The details of the actual attack can never be completely accurate, of course.
http://ww2history.suite101.com/article.cfm/kenneth_campbell_vc (http://ww2history.suite101.com/article.cfm/kenneth_campbell_vc)
This one gives a bit more history as well:
http://www.victoriacross.org.uk/bbcampbe.htm (http://www.victoriacross.org.uk/bbcampbe.htm)
and there's a photo of him here (http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2367132&l=f84731a3ad&id=565053498)
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Don't know about the royal blood, Roger, but can certainly see where the artistic talent came from. :)
My other uncle has done a Campbell family tree which is very interesting (once you decipher his writing) and there is one somewhere for my dad's side as well. Always meant to try to do one for the Gourlays, but have never got around to it. An incredibly time-consuming hobby. Can get quite expensive too.
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What an amazing story about your Uncle Ken, Joan. I looked at his photo and will check out your other links later when I have a bit more time. (I'm just about to start work).
My daughter is getting really interested in our family background and is going to research it. I'll let you know if she finds that direct link to the Kings and Queens of Europe. Or the Baldricks of Europe.
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War is such waste of heroic young lives, Joan. My mother occasionally talks of her beloved older brother, the gentlest of souls, who lost his life during World War Two, serving his country as a pilot in the Luftwaffe.
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I remember reading a book about various escapes during World War II and was astonished by the extreme youth of many involved. One 19 year-old broke out of a prison camp and made his way across Europe with amazing courage and ingenuity. At one stage, he sat, dressed as a peasant, in a train carriage full of German soldiers. I think it took him something like six months to finally get home. Incredible for a kid that age.
My 19 year-old son finds it difficult to escape from his duvet.
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My 19 year-old son finds it difficult to escape from his duvet.
;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D
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They're called "doonas" over here.
Duvets, that is, not 19 year-olds.
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I could have sworn there was a post on here from you this morning, Diane, about your mother and father during the war and how your sister didn't see her father until she was five. Can't see it any more - am I going nuts?
You're so right, TT. I'm still overwhelmed with sadness when I tell someone about Uncle Ken and he was just one of thousands who died on all sides. The whole crew deserved to be honoured. Apparently, my grandfather accepted the VC on behalf of the crew, but it would only have been the king who heard that. The navigator, Sgt J P Scott, was awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal. He was found in the pilot's seat - Ken must have been hit and he took over. Then there are all the people (women mainly) working hard in the UK who built the plane, torpedoes, etc, not to forget the pilot who dropped the unexploded bomb in the dry dock which caused the Gneisenau to be brought out into the harbour. What I'm trying to say (not very well) is that although what Ken and his crew did stood out in its consequences, there were hundreds of thousands of men and women who gave their lives during WWII on a daily basis and I think this is reflected in the family's attitude. We never really spoke of it outside the family as such and even among the family, the knowledge was just "there". I didn't know the full story until Bill Brady organised the memorial in Saltcoats. It was obviously very emotional for my mum and her siblings too. Those nine or ten months when they didn't know what had happened must have been awful and it was happening to so many families.
I used to devour POW escape stories when I was young, Roger. Trevor's father fought with the Australian army in Greece and Crete. At the start of the German invasion of Crete George's infantry battalion, (which wasn't very big - the engineers and an ambulance unit fought too) along with local men, managed to hold off the 1500 German paratroopers who were dropped in over Retimo. Hitler had sent his new elite paratroopers in - he never used them again. They managed to fight for ten days until the Germans arrived in ships and they had to surrender. George spent three years in POW camps in Germany. We have an account of his and a friend's escape from Stalag VIIA. They managed to stay free for a week but were recaptured when they sat down to wait for darkness, leant against a woodcutter's hut in the Black Forest, fell asleep, only to awaken to the woodcutter standing over them with a double-edged axe. There are more stories in the booklet about the pow camps, some of them quite horrifying - the horrifying acts I was just reading about were not committed by the Germans, but by a minority of the prisoners who ruled by violence in one particular camp. Another thing I have to do is copy or scan the booklet in.
This is a picture of George and some of his fellow diggers in Brussels, I think probably after he was freed, as they sailed to Cairo from Australia. He's first on the left in the back row.
(http://users.tpg.com.au/pdcs01/georgegourlayaussiesinbrussels18051945.jpg)
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I didn't know the full story until Bill Brady organised the memorial in Saltcoats.
The name Saltcoats stood out, that's where my mum lives. Sorry to interrupt the narrative, which is fascinating.
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Don't you remember, Malc? We worked out a while ago that your sister-in-law works in the Campbell law firm. In fact, when my cousin was out here last year, I mentioned the connection and she said that your sister-in-law's mother played the organ at my uncle Jim's (cousin's father) funeral. Scotland is such a small place.
This is the story about Bill Brady and the memorial bench:
http://www.victoriacross.org.uk/bbcampbe.htm
and this is a picture of the memorial bench:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2363242&l=6aa7f28eb7&id=565053498
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Yes Joan, it was there ? I took it off. Sometimes I can be a little socially insensitive ? this thread is about your uncle Ken.
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Oh, Diane, I know I can't speak for Joan but there was absolutely nothing "insensitive" about your post. It was a welcome and fascinating addition to a thread that has taken a really interesting twist. I enjoy hearing tales about those people who turned out to be part of a remarkable generation.
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No, no, Diane, as Roger said, there was nothing insensitive about what you posted. In fact, it was entirely relevent. I certainly don't want this thread to be just about Uncle Ken. WWII was an extraordinary time and it is fascinating to hear about people's experiences. As a generation, we have more of an insight into what it was like. I don't think my children have any concept of what it was like to live through it.
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Well I did save it:
That was an interesting story Joan. England was so close to being invaded and occupied in those days, the country sure owes a debt of thanks to your uncle for slowing things down.
I too think of all the sadness of the war as both my parents were involved. My Dad had a protected job, but still he signed up to do his bit and was given the job of a driver. He was captured by the Germans and lost half his body weight in a POW camp ? he escaped twice, finally to freedom over the Alps. His friend, Francis S. Jones wrote a couple of books about their escapes: his escape (No Rice for Rebels) and my Dad?s escapes ?Hit or Miss? (OOP).
My mother, on the other hand, was left as a young bride pregnant living in Liverpool which suffered some of the worst bombings ? she would sleep in the underground with my baby sister ? after all the houses on the street in which she lived, except hers, were flattened, she moved back to where her parents were living in Birmingham (another badly hit bombing spot) where she worked in an ammunition factory. My sister never met our father until she was five.
Wars are just so sad, people making huge efforts and profits to make a well-oiled war machines ? from ships of war down to sewing the buttons on the uniforms ? too bad that collective effort could not be turned into peace and anti poverty efforts.
At the end of the war my Dad was assigned charge of a German POW work crew who worked on the sea wall barrier in Wallasey ? after his harsh treatment as a POW you would think he would have made their lives as miserable as possible but instead he brought them home for Sunday dinners.
One thing I did last year and the year before was buy the same medals my father was awarded (He gave his set to me but I thought my sister was more deserving of them as she was the one who lived it.) on ebay when they came up. I bought three sets and plan to put them in a shadow box with a copy of my dad?s book for each of my three kids. It was sad to know that nobody cared enough for these old soldiers that they wanted to keep their medals ? and they all went pretty cheap too.
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Yes, I do remember that, Joan. I remember saying that we were practically related, such is Barbara's closeness with her employers.
She's also the head of the Osmonds Fan Club UK, but that's another story. As a Facebook friend, check out her photos, she knows Donny personally and has been invited to the Osmond home (again) this year.
But back to the war. It's great to hear the memories of these old soldiers being honoured by their GIRLS, too. I do believe the people who lived through the two Great Wars were the Golden Generation (as they have come to be called). I wonder if we today would have their courage, their hardiness and their sense of duty? I also wonder if any wars since had the lines of good and evil so clearly delineated? My father was too young to fight, in fact he was born a year before the war, though he later spent eighteen years in the army. My grandfathers both avoided combat, one as a reserved occupation (ships's carpenter on the Clyde) and the other with a heart condition.
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Good Lord, look at all those Osmonds! I can't see Barbara's photos, Malc - need to be her friend to do that, but I can see her friend list and there are heaps of them in there. :) I don't have anyone famous in my friends list. The most well known would be the odd cartoonist that appears in there. ;) Roger, you should join up so I can have you as a friend! Jane Fonda accepted me as a friend when she first started on fb, but someone must have pointed out to her that she'd find it difficult to accept 7,000 friend requests and she'd be better off with a fan page. I've got a lot of catching up to do re friend numbers compared to Malc! So if anyone wants to send me a friend request - go ahead, you never know, I may accept it. Haven't ignored one yet. God, I'm getting bad - it's all this time spent on the computer while I was resting my leg, I've been sucked in!
Your parents really lived the war, Diane. They were very hard times and they certainly brought out both the best (in your parents? case) and, unfortunately, the worst in people. Both Trevor and my parents were fairly old when they had us - mine were 40 and Trevor's in their late 30's, in different ways, partly as a result of the war.
I'm not sure if we would have any of those, Malc. The courage probably, but the hardiness and the sense of duty - I doubt our children would display the hardiness, but perhaps that's unfair. It would certainly be a terrible shock to them to have to go without the essentials of life as they see them, along with those which actually are the essentials! I think the sense of duty to our country would be more about protecting people and our way of life, but then underneath the propaganda, it was always about that.
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The most well known would be the odd cartoonist that appears in there.
Hey - I'm on your list! >:(
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Joan, the mysteries of Facebook and Twitter will remain unnecessary evils to me. Please remember that you're talking to someone who has never driven a car, has no mobile phone and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
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... and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
You're joking, right? How can anyone get that desperate?
Next time, unplug it from the wall and remove the battery. I defy any laptop to stay on after that.
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Roger, a complete idiot could use Twitter.
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Nige, it's your choice, you can be the odd one who's most well known, or one of the other two who aren't.
It was worth a try, Roger - you managed to copy and paste a link the other day and you must have a username and password for here. You're not as technologically inept as you think, no matter what you think about Facebook and Twitter.
Mince, you're assuming he knows where the battery is located. :)
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Joan, the mysteries of Facebook and Twitter will remain unnecessary evils to me. Please remember that you're talking to someone who has never driven a car, has no mobile phone and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
fantastic...ww11 heroes to technophobes in one easy step seemingly seamlessly, brothers and sisters i salute you :)
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...and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
Was that the same day you phoned me to find out how to switch it on, Roger, or another occasion?
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No, he phoned you the day before.
And it was one scary night for him. It was staring at him all night and he kept thinking: I bet it's still on.
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fantastic...ww11 heroes to technophobes in one easy step seemingly seamlessly, brothers and sisters i salute you Smiley
Welcome to any conversation with me, Robbie! I'm always going off on a tangent.
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...and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
Was that the same day you phoned me to find out how to switch it on, Roger, or another occasion?
This is the same thing! My laptop had frozen and I had no idea what to do so I phoned Nige. At the time, he didn't own a laptop so passed me on to you. I couldn't switch the damn thing off and you correctly advised me to hold the power key down for ten seconds or so. I was very proud when it worked. It was mid-afternoon, so I woke my son to tell him.
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...and once phoned Nige to find out how to switch off a laptop.
Was that the same day you phoned me to find out how to switch it on, Roger, or another occasion?
you correctly advised me to hold the power key down for ten seconds or so
He'd obviously had to do the same thing himself in the past, with his fin.
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F-f-f-f-fin?
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Yeah, I don't get that either.
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Pilchards don't have arms with which to press the off button. ..0
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Pilchards don't have arms with which to press the off button. ..0
You callin' me a pilchard, pal? >:(
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Pilchards don't have arms with which to press the off button. ..0
You callin' me a pilchard, pal? >:(
Oh, sorry - it was YOU who advised Roger. I was under the impression it was Mince.
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..0
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I was very proud when it worked. It was mid-afternoon, so I woke my son to tell him.
Proud and brave, Roger!