What Did Your Dad Do After The War?


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Following Chulla's advice I watched the film Twelve O'clock High,I was struck by Gregory Peck's constant pushing of getting the "maximum" out of his men.Even though I was born in 1961 I felt my Father's wartime experience effected him greatly, other friends of a similar age bear this out too.

So many measures took place in our house- I now recollect as sad: Alpine drink lorries never called at my house: spending money was practically begged for: and a strictness and table manners were heavily prevelant.

Maybe folks who had given so much felt the right to dictate what went on around them? Maybe some members on here who were born before me feel the same way?

Thought about this for a while- but deemed it introspective.. any additions or opines on this subject?

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My Dad finished his apprenticeship at ROF and joined RAF in December 1942, the month of his 21st birthday. After basic training as LAC (Leading Aircraftsman) at RAF Halton he was shipped out to Europ

My dad's jobs I remember after the war were, Lorry driver Sankey's, - breadman doorstep deliveries, - bus driver corpo - during theses times he also a had job as 'doorman' at Astoria ballroom and Asp

My dad was a mental health nurse pre-war, so volunteered for RAMC as soon as it was inevitable that war was coming. He was in France for the phoney war, and was evacuated from Dunkirk. Once posted to

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My dad was a fireman for the duration of the war in Birmingham. The sights he saw were horrendous. Charred bodies, bodies molten like plasticine. He had scars down his neck from molten glass splashing on him. No fighting, but terrible all the same.

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I was born 1960 so only a year older than you. My dad was a paratrooper in the 6th airborne. He rarely spoke about the war and he was the most mild mannered man you could ever wish to meet. My mum said he used to wake in the night having had nightmares about finding dead bodies in the side of the road. Mum was, funnily enough, the disciplinarian of the family, in fact she used to scare my mates sh**less!! So he didnt make any rules in the house and I always wondered if that was why he was so laid back, because he had been subjected to the strict rules of the army for so long

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What I've always admired about men and women who have been in some of the awful conflicts is there silence about it,

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The Journal newspaper was very good and kept open all the servicemen's jobs. They published a list of all their workers who were away in the forces and when they all came back there was a welcome home dinner. I have a copy of the newspaper article and the menu for the event. My parents were married as soon as dad got back from serving with the RAF in the jungles of India and Burma. He spoke about travelling along the road between Imphal and Kohima but never gave any detail of what it was like. He was a radio operator in a unit in the jungle above Kohima sending information about movements of the Japanese to officers who took very little notice of what they were telling them. He never talked to me about the fighting or the hellish nature of the Imphal to Kohima road. I have read about it recently, the ambushes and the steep cliffs that some vehicles went over. Dad did tell my husband a bit about the time in the jungle. All he told me was funny stories about the pranks they got up to and about being in hospital with malaria.

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My dad spent most of WW2 out in India in the Royal Engineers , building docks . I know he spent a lot of time in Poona but never really talked much about any of it .

After the war he went up north to build Windscale the first nuclear plant (Sellafield) .

I think he worked for the Ministry of Works . Whether he applied for a job or whether he was drafted in , not sure .

Once when looking through photos with my late mum there was one of this isolated wooden chalet on a beach . Whether this was my dads "quarters" , I'm not sure but my mum said ......and this is where you were conceived ! "... It was at a place called Seascale and she must have trecked up there from Nott'm to see him in the summer of 1948 .

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My Dad joined up early in WW2. He was on the 1940 Norway Expeditionary Force and was captured along with many others since the troops landed but the weapons didn't. He spent the rest of the War in assorted POW camps in Germany and Poland.

He spoke little about it and after he died I found his wartime diary. Every entry (in pencil) had been carefully erased.

He was a difficult man, but not nasty or aggressive. A lot of Demons to deal with I think.

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Oh... nearly forgot..

He went back into the mines. He was brought up in Bestwood Village and his parents kept the Bestwood Hotel. Early in the post war period he bought a Royal Enfield Bullet 350 cc motorbike. He rode it into a hole in the road somewhere along Bestwood Rd one night and seemingly only survived because he was found by a party of First Aiders passing by. When I was young I could clearly see the damage to his skull, especially in a certain light.

He really didn't have the best luck.

He died of lung disease in 1976. Aged 56

Col

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I was born in 1952 . My dad was posted down from Scotland and met my mum in Nottingham, he was in the argyle and Sutherland Highlanders, and was away for six years

in North Africa and Then Italy ( with leave in between ) as most people say the never speak much about bad experiences . and speaking from my own limited experiences

no one really wants to listen for more than a few minutes. when he came back he went down the Clifton Pit. he was very easy going when Clifton closed he moved to cotgrave pit

and retired from there. he died in 1995. he was a great sounding board when I was young. he was strict but very fair and hard to anger but god forbid if you did anger him.

ps I tried to get a photo downloaded but failed :-(

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My Dad was in RA and was in London during the blitz on the so called ack ack guns. I understand he was in Belgium France and Germany.

He never really spoke about it. I asked him once if he had any medals, he replied " You can't eat medals our Tommy ". he never bothered to claim them.

 

I claimed his 5 medals  a few years ago.

He never had a proper job after the war ended.
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Our dad was in the war. He never spoke about it; I don't think it was that he didn't want to, just that people rarely did speak about their part in the war. Just about everybody's dad was in the war so it was not anything special. In the last years of his life dad began writing about his time in the army, and his service in India and with the Chindits. I was unaware of this until I found his writings after he died. I could have cried when I read them - having writing experience and a computer I could have been of help to him.

I got all of his writings, put them in chronological order, added photographs and printed off a copy for my brother and sister and one for the Sherwood Foresters' archive. If he is 'up there', I like to think that I have made his resting place more comfortable.

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My Dad joined the RAF in April 1940, initially as a wireless operator/air gunner but following a lengthy spell in hospital he was reallocated as a clerk. He was sent with a draft of odds and sods to what is now Java in Indonesia and was caught up in the chaos after the Japanese invasion. He then sent 3 and half years as a POW, ending the war in Sumatra working on one of the lesser-known "death railways". He spoke very little about the POW time and I recall him having bouts of malaria-like symptoms in the late 50s, He was very unsympathetic to my occasional malingering from school, I could often get Mum to let me have a day off but I'd suffer for it when Dad got home! I've no doubt that the "work or die" regime he'd lived under was a big factor. After some pressure from the family, in the 1980s Dad did write down some of his wartime experiences, particularly his journey out to the Far East and his capture. Since his death I found that his troopship had been the focus of a mutiny whilst in Durban, South Africa, which is another story!

After liberation, he returned to the UK and in 1947 married my mother, who was a war-widow. Her first husband, a bomber pilot, had been a great pal of my Dad and Dad had been the best man at the wedding in 1940. It's odd to see two similar sets of wedding photos, 1940 and 47, with Dad just shifting from BM to groom!! Dad worked for the Star Brewery as some sort of clerk after the war, then moved to a long career with the East Midlands Electricity Board as a local government officer, based in Nottingham and then in Grantham, he died in 1994 at 74.

MB

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Getting back to the original question 'What did dad do after the war' . He carried on as a baker, which is what he did prior to the war.

He then was a delivery driver for Wheatley's butchers on Carrington / Arkwright St, then in the early 50's started his own business.

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My dad wasn't in the war as he worked at "Vickers Armstrong" in Barrow in Furness. The work there was extremely important to the war. I find it hard to believe anyone who worked there was involved in the war. Mum has told me many stories of near misses when bombs were dropped. My grandmother saidto grandad one day that she had to go and see Hilda. When asked why she replied that their house had been bombed. Off she went and the house was bombed on her way there. Just one of many premonitions my nana had.

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Morton, #14, I wonder if I knew your Dad.

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I forgot to add that dad was a homeguard he'd only be 20 when the war started.

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Thankfully, my dad had a comparatively easy war by most people's standards. He was in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Went to France initially, and was on the west coast near St Nazaire, evacuated around the time of the fall of France. He was then stationed in Sussex at Goodwood House for a period of time, and married my mum in February 1941, shortly after which he went to India, and they never saw one another again for five years. He spoke of the heat, muck and hill stations. However although my sister has his diaries from these years, there is little to suggest much action or immediate danger, and he always looked back quite fondly on his time in India. He returned to the UK in 1946 aboard the Union Castle liner "Capetown Castle." Initially he got a desk job at the Inland Revenue. During the war, mum had been working in the offices at the Royal Ordnance Factory, living with her mum, sister and brother on Langdale Road, and squirreling money away for a house when the war ended. In this way, when they were re-united they were able to put down a deposit on a new house on Pateley Road, Woodthorpe (by all accounts it suffered from post-war inadequacies in material quality). Towards the end of 1947 dad moved to a clerical job with the LMS in the goods offices at Carrington Street. Diagnosed with Parkinsons disease in 1948 at the age of 32, he remained at Carrington Street until he retired on health grounds in 1964. He died in 1983 at the early age of 67.

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My dad was at primary school in Liverpool when war broke out.....he was evacuated to North Wales and that affected him in a different way......

It is only now that he talks about those tough years and the separation from his parents.......it made him very single minded and when war ended , a determination to make a better life for himself through education and hard work...... He eventually relocated to Nottingham and created a lot of work for local people...

I am very proud of my dad ...

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From what I can determine here, we are ALL so proud of what our fathers endured during and immediately after the war.

I'm sure that every single one of them had their lives changed and views altered by what they saw and did.

I've still got my dads badges, certificates, photos and instruction books.

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My dad was a mental health nurse pre-war, so volunteered for RAMC as soon as it was inevitable that war was coming. He was in France for the phoney war, and was evacuated from Dunkirk. Once posted to Scotland, he was at the hospital where Rudolf Hess was taken. After that, it was North Afica and Italy, until demob. Then he went back to his old job at Mapperley Hospital, where he remained working until he retired in the 1970s. He never did bother claiming his medals.

Father in law's war could not have been more different. He was 15 when he and his family were taken by the Soviets from their home in Poland and sent to work camps in Siberia. When Germany attacked Russia in 1941, the Poles were forced to make their own way across Russia to Iran, where he enlisted in the Polish Army (lying about his age). He then served in Palestine and North Africa, then Italy, and was at Monte Cassino. When the war ended, he came to the UK and was put in a resettlement camp until he cold find work. After various jobs, he ended up at Trent Concrete, working on Clifton Bridge. From the day he got a work permit, he was never without a job as a joiner - 30 years in the UK, then another 30 years in Canada until he finally retired, aged 80!

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