[Closed] D Day

My Grandad was on Warspite, bombarding the German forces.
He'd been sunk twice in 42/43,both times torpedoed, obviously surviving both times.
Warspites 15" guns fired so many shells over 4 days for D-Day that it wore the guns out, and they had to return to Portsmouth to have new barrels fitted. Portsmouth didnt have enough barrels, so they then went to Rosyth.It was the first large ship since 1942 to go through the Dover Strait. On the way,close to Harwich, they hit a mine which disabled two of the propellers, and the steering. A temporary fix was put in place, and they again set sail for Rosyth at a slow speed.By the end of June, many of the crew were redeployed on other ships as Warspite was going to be a month being repaired. My Grandad was sent to Chatham, where he was stationed on a ship undergoing repair, and was there until August 1945, never having seeing battle again.

My grandad was at Dunkirk, didnt make it out with the main body of troops in the evacuation, was I think part of the rear guard and made it out a couple days later.
Don't know what his war record was, but he spent time as a pow guard somewhere, and he got a nazi officer who was also an artist to do 2 hand drawn sketches of my dad and his brother when they were about aged 2 or 3. Dad was I think born 1942, so that would place it at the end, though I've no idea what he did in the intervening years. I've got the sketch of my Dad in my file box, not sure what happened to the one of my uncle.
I think he was a corporal in transportation, seconded to the 51st highland division, but I don't know what his original regiment was.

I took a wee look/research on other members of his side of the family, and we've got another relative at Gallipoli, again though we've little to no family knowledge of a war record.

I had seven great Uncles and two Grandads serve in WW2... all came back most wounded.
Grandad 2 Atlantic and Russian Convoys
Uncle 2 Border Regiment Siclily Arnhem
Uncle 3 Royal Engineers North Africa Siclily Rapidio Monte Cassino
Uncle 4 Northumberland Fusilers North Africa
Uncle 5 Greece spent the War with Greek Partisans
Uncle 6 Royal Artillery North West Europe
Uncle 7 Royal Artillery North West Europe

Quite a tally there oldman!

Growing up in suburban Coventry in the 70’s every 3rd house seemed to have a veteran. My dad was in bomb disposal, bloke next door was RN, also on Arctic convoys, bloke down the road was in the desert against Rommel.

Al Murray and James Holland’s family stories can be fantastically interesting - if you’ve not listened highly recommended.

My dad’s experience on D+7 sort of summed up the military for him - drove a Bedford 3 tonner off the end of a landing craft, straight into 20 ft of water - managed to doggy paddle coughing and spluttering back to the boat, where they promptly turned around and brought him back to England 😀 Bizarrely he never did make it to France as shortly after they put him on a ship to India!

My Grandad was D+6 with the Staffordshire Regiment. Went all the way across Europe with them. He didn't sat much about it.

If anyone does want to trace their families WW2 service, then the MoD have an excellent service where they can trace many of the records for the war years for £30.
They arent guaranteed to have the records, as many places were bombed, and lost records, but it is worth a try. All you need is a name, address, or city, what service, and date of birth.

Thanks alanl, my dad served in ww2, but as was so common hardly ever mentioned what happened or where he served. I wish I had asked but you just don't, do you? Then its too late.

From a few pics I know he was in Greece and possibly Egypt.

My uncle didn't speak of the war for decades, but here's a couple of quotes after he eventually did:

“We flew from a remote base near Ely in East Anglia and were engaged mainly in sea and French railway yard mining operations as well as drops to the French Resistance. It was during one of these we were shot down. The Germans had the capability to fire vertically upwards. We were over Denmark and it was around midnight when my navigator’s table shattered and I knew we’d been hit from below. Everything happened so fast. We had to bail out and use our parachutes. The parachute wrappers used to put little notes in with the silk saying things like ‘all the best’!  Only three of us survived that night – the rear gunner’s parachute failed to open. That could have been any one of us for you just grabbed a parachute on your way out to board the aircraft…”

“I remember one morning though, two British fighter planes were circling overhead, making to attack because they thought we were Germans. We tried to spell out ‘POWs’ with towels on the ground but they came in, all guns blazing. Twenty men died – friendly fire I think they would call it today. Just days later we were freed by the British…”

One grandfather spent the war in Costal Command (I think). I knew he flew Wellingtons, as the only photo I've seen of him is of him standing in front of one, and I can guess the colour scheme and markings, although searches have so far been disappointing in regards to nailing his service record down. By Jun '44 I know he was stationed at Lossiemouth

The other grandfather was a gas man so in a protected industry. He was down on the South Coast (Peacehaven) though and remembered the day well, and extraordinary amounts of troops and equipment going from Newhaven.

A great uncle also served in Burma/India. the war scarred him pretty badly mentally (like many in the "forgotten" 14th). He was bitter and angry until he died, my overriding memory of going to see Uncle Alf and his family was that we we warned as children never to play "soldiers" in the garden when we visited.

Interesting isn’t it - how time changes peoples perspective on things? The term PTSD wasn’t around, but clearly there was shell shock, and many families knew that war left mental scars. In my old mans case I don’t think he suffered especially, but he was pretty cynical about the war, partly driven I guess by the sort of experiences described above.

As an example, he would never attend remembrance services until very late in his life, although he was very respectful of the sacrifices made. I think for a lot of people they just wanted to move on.

The one bit of advice I always remember from him was ‘never, ever volunteer for anything’ 😀

My Grandad in the Durham Light Infantry was quiet and reserved, he was in Siclily and all the way through North West Europe spent a lot of time in combat and as a Sergeant he would have to lead from the front.

He died quite young 63 and was a skinny fit fella but he drank a lot of beer.

Might have said on here before but none of them went to remembrance services or wore a blazer or a regimental tie, never a medal anywhere and they all would have had plenty.

My Uncle Robert said something similar to me about never getting involved in fighting wars. He lost his best mate at Arnhem.

he would never attend remembrance services

Aye, pretty similar experiences, Uncle Alf had a bloody great collection of medals, that were firmly shut away. One of his kids stumbled across them when he was tidying up after his death, He (the son)  had no idea they even existed.

One of mine was in Italy- master armourer with the RAF by d-day, he didn't talk much about that part of the war but I think mostly just because he'd had a pretty good war overall in Africa, Malta, India and Ceylon (and just missed Burma), by Italy they were little cogs in a massive machine.

The other was merchant navy in the north atlantic for pretty much the whole thing, he got sunk twice on convoys but miraculously made it through the whole thing unscathed. All that side of the family were at sea- my grandad was one of 5 boys and he was the only one that made it through. I wish I knew more about the others, I know one was royal navy on a small ship and was killed in an accident during d-day preparations, last of the family to lose his life in the war.

My grandad would have been discharged by D-day I think.

He was with the Paras in North Africa, then spent a couple of months fighting up through Italy until he was shot & temporarily paralysed.

Never said a word to me about it, I suspect it was pretty traumatic.

I was old enough to drink beer with all my Uncles and they were a nice bunch, considering what they went through i am not sure how they did it.

They were a very different generation from mine.

My wife's great uncle who died 5 or 6 years ago was in the Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry (or related units) for most of the war including fighting Rashid Ali in Iraq early on, was on Crete fighting German paratroopers at Heraklion airfield, fought in North Africa and then up through Italy including at Monte Cassino. After Italy he was due to be sent to the Far East in 1944 but basically had what would now be called a nervous breakdown and refused to go, being convinced he wouldn't survive and was sent to Barlinnie prison in Glasgow, although he did receive an honourable discharge on his release in 1945. I don't think he ever fully recovered from the war and lived for years in a caravan in a field. He did occasionally talk about the war - hiding from Me 109s on Crete by standing in the shadows of olive trees, provided sage advice - never drink from a stagnant pond (he caught Elephantitis in Iraq) but much as we would have liked to talk to him about the war we didn't as he would quickly get to a point where he would just stop talking as the memories came back.

The other was merchant navy in the north atlantic for pretty much the whole thing, he got sunk twice on convoys but miraculously made it through the whole thing unscathed

My paternal grandfather who I never met was the same, died in 1971 I think. He was furious that my uncle signed up to the Royal Navy, apparently.

Maternal grandfather was an ARP in Leeds

My Grandfather served on a Bar Class boom defence vessel. He was part of Operation Dragoon (Mediterranean D-day) and the defence of Malta. He also spent a lot of the war based out of Oban and Scapa Flow and only on his death bed spoke about the secret missions they helped in - dropping special forces mini subs etc for training and a few off the Norwegian coast.

That said, he was deckhand, cook and first aid on a coal powered, outdated 'tug boat' that basically flung moorings in an laid anti-submarine nets....so less than 'glamorous'.

He does have a story about after operation Dragoon they 'commandeered' a broken down US Jeep that was left behind. They had  three months in the med, driving this thing around all sorts of places on days or evenings off, popping it back on the deck each day under a cover. On the way home to UK they realised that explaining a US jeep was 'difficult'. The jeep sits at the bottom of the bay of Biscay....

My Grandfather (Mother's side) was working for the Special Operation Executive (SOE) supplying the French Resistance.

He joined the army in 1919 after leaving school at 14 to work as a miner.  In 1932 he got posted with his family to Malta (where my Mum was born). Would have been a cushy posting then working for the medical corps.

The family survived the siege of Malta, living on starvation rations for years before the island was relieved by Operation Pedestal. The family returned to the UK after the Italians surrendered in 1943.  My Grandfather then  worked for SOE - supplying the Norwegian Resistance before switching to Baker St and preparing for D-Day.

I have a photo of my mother shortly after the return to the UK - she was ordered not to smile as her teeth were black from malnutrition.

I always wondered why both my grandparents joined the army at the earliest opportunity - but the army life with regular food and adventure (both served in India), was an escape from working down a mine or life in abject poverty (How grandfather #2 ended up as a Londoner in the Scots Greys still intrigues me, but being born in hansom cab stables could ride a horse before he could walk).

My Grandfather was too old to fight but was stationed at RAF Cosford as a volunteer groundsman. His youngest brother was sent over at the age of 18 and was one of the first troops to enter the Belsen concentration camp. Can you imagine being so young and confronted with such inhumanity?! Strangely enough he never talked about his experiences there. On a side note we had a party back in the UK a few years ago where Mrs Stern's German family came over and my Great Uncle astounded everyone by starting a converstation in very good German wih them. He hadn't spoken a word of German since the war!

Like @rotorstern.

Some interesting stories there.

@hamishthecat - Crete, North Africa and Cassino - incredible and hardly surprising that had an impact - I think any one of those campaigns would have been enough to finish most people off!

How grandfather #2 ended up as a Londoner in the Scots Greys still intrigues me

Lots of well known "regional" regiments in reality recruited from all over by WW2. for a number of pretty sensible reasons. 1. Just numbers, the enlistment of loads of people and creation of loads of regiments that just need bodies, you end up just plugging gaps, and filling them from wherever. there were Londoners in Devonshire regts and Highland Regts. alike and 2. The experience of WW1 with the "Friends Regiments" was a sore lesson to learn. After an action, if you need to send "We regret to inform you" letter to a mum in Liverpool, and a mum in Knaresborough, then the horror is spread about, If you need to send that same letter to a couple of houses on the same street, the impact is maginfied way beyond proportion.

My Gran had 3 brothers in WWII,two of them were evacuated from Dunkirk,one of them wounded so his war was over.The other one then went back out to North Africa & all the way through Italy including Monte Casino.The third brother was more fortunate,he was a Spitfire mechanic in Rhodesia,ha stayed out there after the war finished.
My Grandad was a engineer making steam trains so when war broke out he made tanks.
Next door but one neighbour was shot in the leg at Arnhem,he never talked about it,I only found out when the next door said he was going to Arnhem & I asked why,she replied "Oh he got shot there'..
At work we have a full on 'Hobby Squadie',he does lots of fund raising for the Parra's,goes on all the Parades etc.Another workmate who was a Para in the Falklands conflict wasn't impressed with all this & pointed out that he never attended rememberance events despite being in the para's for years.

Another workmate who was a Para in the Falklands conflict wasn’t impressed with all this & pointed out that he never attended rememberance events despite being in the para’s for years.

It takes all sorts. Being in the reserves carries just as much danger as a full time soldier when you're on deployment.

My Grandad was joined the Paras after being in the Queen's at Dunkirk. He didn't make it to D-Day, as he'd been in North Africa and fighting up Italy. He was shot in 1942 and was discharged by 1943.
He never went to a parade or a reunion, nor talked about it much. He'd watch the Cenotaph on telly and have a glass of whiskey, but that's as far as he went.

I was fascinated as a kid, but he wouldn't share any stories. Probably not age appropriate...

There's a lot of biogs on https://www.paradata.org.uk/roll-call if you're interested.

@hamishthecat – Crete, North Africa and Cassino – incredible and hardly surprising that had an impact – I think any one of those campaigns would have been enough to finish most people off!

Absolutely - I've not read up much on DCLI during WW2 as there doesn't seem to be a huge amount available but he reckoned there weren't many of them left after Crete and he was one of very few evacuated from the island via fishing boat. I think he was attached to a different regiment after that. My wife's got some handwritten notes of his about his time in the war which we really need to transcribe.

https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/we-have-ways-of-making-you-talk/id1457552694?i=1000523719326

Not listened to this one yet, but it’s about the evacuation of Crete, and they are usually v good.

Both my Grandads worked down the mines so we had no war stories growing up. Dad was born '44, he had three older sister (two now dead) so doubt he'd remember anything from that time anyway.

Many, many years ago on the school German exchange I met my German penfriend grandfather. He held out his "hook" when I went to shake his hand and explained that the last Englishman he met had blown off his hand.

Then spent a fun half hour showing me a variety of prothetic tools he used for different jobs around the farm.

That was a humbling afternoon.

Dad was in the Royal Navy 1940-1945. 1940-43 convoy duties during the Battle of the Atlantic. His ship was torpedoed & sunk 1943. Volunteered for subs but denied due to childhood illness. Transferred to minesweepers in the north sea fighting mines & e-boats. 1945 shipped out to Burma due to US navy being short on minesweepers for the invasion of mainland Japan. Like D-Day minesweepers would have been in the vanguard with estimated high lost of life (thankfully that never happened).
Dad second top left 1940
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Dad & mum 1941
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Dad 1945 aged 30 looking thin & gaunt a few weeks after his second sinking by torpedo
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Never attended remembrance services or wore his medals

pennine, that first pic, Royal Arthur, is the same one that most of the Navy went to for basic training.
It was Butlins Holiday Camp in Skegness. My Grandad went there on 5th June 41. 3 years later he was shelling Germans from Warspite.
He too didnt say much about it, and never showed us his medals (4, maybe 5), we still dont know what happened to them. This detail all came from the MoD/Navy Records tracing service.

Maternal grandfather was a Lt. Cmdr in the navy. Commanded mine sweepers and was mentioned in dispatches for getting three round the Cape of Good Hope and into the Indian Ocean. They sent three in the hope that one would make it... Was torpedoed several times over the course of the war too.

Always wore his medals and attended Remembrance parades and was a fervent supported of the RBL, rattling his tin like a loon.

My grandad was in the TA (or whatever it was called then) prior to the war tried for parachuting but was rejected due to a collosal head injury sustained as a child (we're talking eye socket a good inch lower on one side) offered tanks or comms and outright rejected being locked in a tank. He ended up in north africa and itally he was a right adventurer but managed to avoid getting shot at althoguh there is a vague story of nicking bits off an american jeep for one of his and getting shot at, or deciding one day to use his unused climbing irons to scale a tele pole before slipping nd sliding all the way backdown which got approval from his men thinking he knew what he was doing.

My great uncles other side were SOE with trips delivering stuff into france and late war RAF got as far as practicing with rockets from typhoons before the whole thing was over.

I think my grandad talked about it a fair bit to his kids, my mum certainly knows alot of stories but he didn't much talk about it to the grandkids. He did remembrance day but only on his own terms no medals etc just paying his respects. I suspect he felt rather guilty he didn't fight. To me though he was just an amazing guy right up to his death at 101.

His great uncle though... he is celebrated on the RAF centeneray jam jar. And has a gap in a hedge named after him where he crashed his BE12 and broke his neck in 1918.