I don't like it when ...

[Malc]

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.

[Joan]

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 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 named after him - 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

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

This one gives a bit more history as well:

http://www.victoriacross.org.uk/bbcampbe.htm

and there's a photo of him here

[Joan]

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.

[Roger Kettle]

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.

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

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.

[Roger Kettle]

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.

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

My 19 year-old son finds it difficult to escape from his duvet.

[Malc]

They're called "doonas" over here.

Duvets, that is, not 19 year-olds.

[Joan]

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.

[Malc]

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.

[Joan]

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

[Diane CBPFC]

Yes Joan, it was there ? I took it off. Sometimes I can be a little socially insensitive ? this thread is about your uncle Ken.

[Roger Kettle]

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.

[Joan]

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.

[Diane CBPFC]

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.