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Okay, I'm going to do that weird thing where someone blurts out stuff that is....oh I don't know, something.
He was born in 1911 before the First World War, I don't know anything about his parents except they died quite young. When he was 16 he joined the RAF as the lowest grade rank there was. This was 1926. Over the years he trained in mechanics and became a technician. By 1939 he was Flight Sergeant in the RAF and serving in England, he'd married at the age of 20 to a local girl the same age.
Then the war came, and he was posted with his squadron, 633, abroad to France. Most of you know what happened next - Dunkirk. With the squadrons aircraft returned to England the ground crews found themselves mixed with the army to escape France. He, and his men, many close friends, escaped aboard the ship RMS Lancastria. It had 6000+ people on board - military and refugees. The ship was attacked by the Germans as it left, and set ablaze and sinking. The survivors in the water were strafed by the Luftwaffe until help came. He'd decided to slepp on the top deck of the ship, in the cold, not wanting to be crammed into the holds with most of the others. He survived along with 2500 others and made it to England.
Back in England he rejoined 633, and serviced and maintained the obmbers which hit Germany and France. In 1944, with the war turning he and his men were transferred back to France, servicing the bombers and fighters of the RAF. In 1945, when the war ended, he was stationed to Berlin for several years, and saw the great city reduced to rubble.
In the following years he went to Iraq, Oman, Malta, nearly every where the RAF still operated. In 1952 he had a son. All during these times abroad his wife stayed in England and wrote to him, and he wrote back, occasionaly telephoning when possible. In 1966 he retired from the RAF but continued to be a technical advisor to several aerospace firms, including BAE. The years carried on - he'd missed a lot of his son growing up because of his service to the RAF - and on. He and his wife retired to where they came from, a small town, and grew a large garden, with vegetables, herbs .e.tc.. In 1991 he had a heart attack that finally scared him off smoking, and he recovered well from it and back to normal health. In 1995 his wife passed away, and he lived alone with visits from his son and his family for several months before moving into a flat in a residential complex for old people. He met someone who he'd known as a child, and she'd lost her husband and her son had gone to Canada. They met and became good friends ever since, almost like they were married again.
Two weeks ago he had to go into hospital. There's a shadow on his lung found during an X ray and he doesn't want any treatment. At 91 its understandable. Trouble is he doesnt want hardly anyone to visit him, not me or his other friends, just his son. Without any test the doctors don't know how bad the cancer is. There treatments keep him free from pain but without knowing anything else they just don't know. He's said that at 91 he's hada good life, and I agree with that, but he won't see many people because he wants them to remember him as he was, not like he is now. I'd rather remember him like that, but....it's hard yknow ?
I know he's had a good long and mostly happy life. He's helped a lot of people, saved a lot of lives. He never talked about his time in the RAF much, I think it haunts him a little. He always insisted that he survived so many things his friends didn't because he was the unlucky one, that those who survived would always carry the memory of those they lost with them until they died. Whatsmore he was never bitter about the war, or apologetic about some of the things the RAF did which historians question. He once said to me, when a program about the firebombings was on, "you cannot imagine what it was like. People who weren't there try to, but they can't, what you read in books can't. Only those who were there can understand why we did what we did." Can you imagine what it must have been like to have friends one day, then them dead the next ?
So I'm writing this topic, and I don't know why, but this is a real story, not fiction. He really is my Grandad, and I'm proud of him and what he's done for others in his life. If he doesn't want to see me then I understand that, I can see why, kind of, Its hard though :(
~~Belldandy~~
He was born in 1911 before the First World War, I don't know anything about his parents except they died quite young. When he was 16 he joined the RAF as the lowest grade rank there was. This was 1926. Over the years he trained in mechanics and became a technician. By 1939 he was Flight Sergeant in the RAF and serving in England, he'd married at the age of 20 to a local girl the same age.
Then the war came, and he was posted with his squadron, 633, abroad to France. Most of you know what happened next - Dunkirk. With the squadrons aircraft returned to England the ground crews found themselves mixed with the army to escape France. He, and his men, many close friends, escaped aboard the ship RMS Lancastria. It had 6000+ people on board - military and refugees. The ship was attacked by the Germans as it left, and set ablaze and sinking. The survivors in the water were strafed by the Luftwaffe until help came. He'd decided to slepp on the top deck of the ship, in the cold, not wanting to be crammed into the holds with most of the others. He survived along with 2500 others and made it to England.
Back in England he rejoined 633, and serviced and maintained the obmbers which hit Germany and France. In 1944, with the war turning he and his men were transferred back to France, servicing the bombers and fighters of the RAF. In 1945, when the war ended, he was stationed to Berlin for several years, and saw the great city reduced to rubble.
In the following years he went to Iraq, Oman, Malta, nearly every where the RAF still operated. In 1952 he had a son. All during these times abroad his wife stayed in England and wrote to him, and he wrote back, occasionaly telephoning when possible. In 1966 he retired from the RAF but continued to be a technical advisor to several aerospace firms, including BAE. The years carried on - he'd missed a lot of his son growing up because of his service to the RAF - and on. He and his wife retired to where they came from, a small town, and grew a large garden, with vegetables, herbs .e.tc.. In 1991 he had a heart attack that finally scared him off smoking, and he recovered well from it and back to normal health. In 1995 his wife passed away, and he lived alone with visits from his son and his family for several months before moving into a flat in a residential complex for old people. He met someone who he'd known as a child, and she'd lost her husband and her son had gone to Canada. They met and became good friends ever since, almost like they were married again.
Two weeks ago he had to go into hospital. There's a shadow on his lung found during an X ray and he doesn't want any treatment. At 91 its understandable. Trouble is he doesnt want hardly anyone to visit him, not me or his other friends, just his son. Without any test the doctors don't know how bad the cancer is. There treatments keep him free from pain but without knowing anything else they just don't know. He's said that at 91 he's hada good life, and I agree with that, but he won't see many people because he wants them to remember him as he was, not like he is now. I'd rather remember him like that, but....it's hard yknow ?
I know he's had a good long and mostly happy life. He's helped a lot of people, saved a lot of lives. He never talked about his time in the RAF much, I think it haunts him a little. He always insisted that he survived so many things his friends didn't because he was the unlucky one, that those who survived would always carry the memory of those they lost with them until they died. Whatsmore he was never bitter about the war, or apologetic about some of the things the RAF did which historians question. He once said to me, when a program about the firebombings was on, "you cannot imagine what it was like. People who weren't there try to, but they can't, what you read in books can't. Only those who were there can understand why we did what we did." Can you imagine what it must have been like to have friends one day, then them dead the next ?
So I'm writing this topic, and I don't know why, but this is a real story, not fiction. He really is my Grandad, and I'm proud of him and what he's done for others in his life. If he doesn't want to see me then I understand that, I can see why, kind of, Its hard though :(
~~Belldandy~~
Sorry to hear that. It's pretty hard, I know.
That's the first time that I have sat down and read a thread like that...
Normally I just skim read it but I read that one fully.
I can see his point, you want people to remember you as you were when you were healthy and happy and not like you are when you are laying in a bed...
Dunno what else to say...
Normally I just skim read it but I read that one fully.
I can see his point, you want people to remember you as you were when you were healthy and happy and not like you are when you are laying in a bed...
Dunno what else to say...
He died, earlier this morning. None of the family are too shocked because we knew it was coming and he'd spent the last week doing nothing but sleeping. He wouldn't have wanted to be like that.
What's really made me wonder is this;
I don't tend to dream, or at least remember dreams, very often. Last night I had a dream of him, before he was ill, sitting in the living room chair. I don't know how long the dream lasted, or what he said, except he looked happy, and it ended with him looking at his watch.
Part of me thinks that just because he was ill then he was more likely to be in my dream to begin with, but there's always going to be that doubt in my mind yknow ?
~~Belldandy~~
What's really made me wonder is this;
I don't tend to dream, or at least remember dreams, very often. Last night I had a dream of him, before he was ill, sitting in the living room chair. I don't know how long the dream lasted, or what he said, except he looked happy, and it ended with him looking at his watch.
Part of me thinks that just because he was ill then he was more likely to be in my dream to begin with, but there's always going to be that doubt in my mind yknow ?
~~Belldandy~~
Not really been in a similar situation myself, and i guess i don't have any advice. Just wanted to say i'd read it.
The kernel's advice sounds good though.
He sounds like a good man.
The kernel's advice sounds good though.
He sounds like a good man.
So you don't talk rubbish all the time! :)
It's a tough situation. My grandad died earlier this year, although he'd been ill for a long time. But because we lived at opposite ends of the country I never had a chance to say goodbye the last time he went into the hospital; and I do regret that.
Maybe you should write your Grandad a letter telling him you'd like to see him, and that seeing him ill isn't going to change the way you remember him.
It's a tough situation. My grandad died earlier this year, although he'd been ill for a long time. But because we lived at opposite ends of the country I never had a chance to say goodbye the last time he went into the hospital; and I do regret that.
Maybe you should write your Grandad a letter telling him you'd like to see him, and that seeing him ill isn't going to change the way you remember him.
SHEEPY wrote:
> He had a rare throat cancer caused by smoking his whole life
Thats how my granny died.
> He had a rare throat cancer caused by smoking his whole life
Thats how my granny died.
Well the same thing happened with my Granpa last year when he was ill in hospital.
He had a rare throat cancer caused by smoking his whole life and didn't want myself or my brother to go visit him as he was looking worse for wear, so we never. It annoyed me a bit at the time but it's what he wanted.
Anyway he died in August last year at 70
I miss him but he lived a good life as well. He played football for Scotland and many top teams, he was cool. So I did a talk about him in English and got his name in all his old team programs.
You could send a message through your dad ( I take it, thats his son ).
He had a rare throat cancer caused by smoking his whole life and didn't want myself or my brother to go visit him as he was looking worse for wear, so we never. It annoyed me a bit at the time but it's what he wanted.
Anyway he died in August last year at 70
I miss him but he lived a good life as well. He played football for Scotland and many top teams, he was cool. So I did a talk about him in English and got his name in all his old team programs.
You could send a message through your dad ( I take it, thats his son ).
Okay, I'm going to do that weird thing where someone blurts out stuff that is....oh I don't know, something.
He was born in 1911 before the First World War, I don't know anything about his parents except they died quite young. When he was 16 he joined the RAF as the lowest grade rank there was. This was 1926. Over the years he trained in mechanics and became a technician. By 1939 he was Flight Sergeant in the RAF and serving in England, he'd married at the age of 20 to a local girl the same age.
Then the war came, and he was posted with his squadron, 633, abroad to France. Most of you know what happened next - Dunkirk. With the squadrons aircraft returned to England the ground crews found themselves mixed with the army to escape France. He, and his men, many close friends, escaped aboard the ship RMS Lancastria. It had 6000+ people on board - military and refugees. The ship was attacked by the Germans as it left, and set ablaze and sinking. The survivors in the water were strafed by the Luftwaffe until help came. He'd decided to slepp on the top deck of the ship, in the cold, not wanting to be crammed into the holds with most of the others. He survived along with 2500 others and made it to England.
Back in England he rejoined 633, and serviced and maintained the obmbers which hit Germany and France. In 1944, with the war turning he and his men were transferred back to France, servicing the bombers and fighters of the RAF. In 1945, when the war ended, he was stationed to Berlin for several years, and saw the great city reduced to rubble.
In the following years he went to Iraq, Oman, Malta, nearly every where the RAF still operated. In 1952 he had a son. All during these times abroad his wife stayed in England and wrote to him, and he wrote back, occasionaly telephoning when possible. In 1966 he retired from the RAF but continued to be a technical advisor to several aerospace firms, including BAE. The years carried on - he'd missed a lot of his son growing up because of his service to the RAF - and on. He and his wife retired to where they came from, a small town, and grew a large garden, with vegetables, herbs .e.tc.. In 1991 he had a heart attack that finally scared him off smoking, and he recovered well from it and back to normal health. In 1995 his wife passed away, and he lived alone with visits from his son and his family for several months before moving into a flat in a residential complex for old people. He met someone who he'd known as a child, and she'd lost her husband and her son had gone to Canada. They met and became good friends ever since, almost like they were married again.
Two weeks ago he had to go into hospital. There's a shadow on his lung found during an X ray and he doesn't want any treatment. At 91 its understandable. Trouble is he doesnt want hardly anyone to visit him, not me or his other friends, just his son. Without any test the doctors don't know how bad the cancer is. There treatments keep him free from pain but without knowing anything else they just don't know. He's said that at 91 he's hada good life, and I agree with that, but he won't see many people because he wants them to remember him as he was, not like he is now. I'd rather remember him like that, but....it's hard yknow ?
I know he's had a good long and mostly happy life. He's helped a lot of people, saved a lot of lives. He never talked about his time in the RAF much, I think it haunts him a little. He always insisted that he survived so many things his friends didn't because he was the unlucky one, that those who survived would always carry the memory of those they lost with them until they died. Whatsmore he was never bitter about the war, or apologetic about some of the things the RAF did which historians question. He once said to me, when a program about the firebombings was on, "you cannot imagine what it was like. People who weren't there try to, but they can't, what you read in books can't. Only those who were there can understand why we did what we did." Can you imagine what it must have been like to have friends one day, then them dead the next ?
So I'm writing this topic, and I don't know why, but this is a real story, not fiction. He really is my Grandad, and I'm proud of him and what he's done for others in his life. If he doesn't want to see me then I understand that, I can see why, kind of, Its hard though :(
~~Belldandy~~
He was born in 1911 before the First World War, I don't know anything about his parents except they died quite young. When he was 16 he joined the RAF as the lowest grade rank there was. This was 1926. Over the years he trained in mechanics and became a technician. By 1939 he was Flight Sergeant in the RAF and serving in England, he'd married at the age of 20 to a local girl the same age.
Then the war came, and he was posted with his squadron, 633, abroad to France. Most of you know what happened next - Dunkirk. With the squadrons aircraft returned to England the ground crews found themselves mixed with the army to escape France. He, and his men, many close friends, escaped aboard the ship RMS Lancastria. It had 6000+ people on board - military and refugees. The ship was attacked by the Germans as it left, and set ablaze and sinking. The survivors in the water were strafed by the Luftwaffe until help came. He'd decided to slepp on the top deck of the ship, in the cold, not wanting to be crammed into the holds with most of the others. He survived along with 2500 others and made it to England.
Back in England he rejoined 633, and serviced and maintained the obmbers which hit Germany and France. In 1944, with the war turning he and his men were transferred back to France, servicing the bombers and fighters of the RAF. In 1945, when the war ended, he was stationed to Berlin for several years, and saw the great city reduced to rubble.
In the following years he went to Iraq, Oman, Malta, nearly every where the RAF still operated. In 1952 he had a son. All during these times abroad his wife stayed in England and wrote to him, and he wrote back, occasionaly telephoning when possible. In 1966 he retired from the RAF but continued to be a technical advisor to several aerospace firms, including BAE. The years carried on - he'd missed a lot of his son growing up because of his service to the RAF - and on. He and his wife retired to where they came from, a small town, and grew a large garden, with vegetables, herbs .e.tc.. In 1991 he had a heart attack that finally scared him off smoking, and he recovered well from it and back to normal health. In 1995 his wife passed away, and he lived alone with visits from his son and his family for several months before moving into a flat in a residential complex for old people. He met someone who he'd known as a child, and she'd lost her husband and her son had gone to Canada. They met and became good friends ever since, almost like they were married again.
Two weeks ago he had to go into hospital. There's a shadow on his lung found during an X ray and he doesn't want any treatment. At 91 its understandable. Trouble is he doesnt want hardly anyone to visit him, not me or his other friends, just his son. Without any test the doctors don't know how bad the cancer is. There treatments keep him free from pain but without knowing anything else they just don't know. He's said that at 91 he's hada good life, and I agree with that, but he won't see many people because he wants them to remember him as he was, not like he is now. I'd rather remember him like that, but....it's hard yknow ?
I know he's had a good long and mostly happy life. He's helped a lot of people, saved a lot of lives. He never talked about his time in the RAF much, I think it haunts him a little. He always insisted that he survived so many things his friends didn't because he was the unlucky one, that those who survived would always carry the memory of those they lost with them until they died. Whatsmore he was never bitter about the war, or apologetic about some of the things the RAF did which historians question. He once said to me, when a program about the firebombings was on, "you cannot imagine what it was like. People who weren't there try to, but they can't, what you read in books can't. Only those who were there can understand why we did what we did." Can you imagine what it must have been like to have friends one day, then them dead the next ?
So I'm writing this topic, and I don't know why, but this is a real story, not fiction. He really is my Grandad, and I'm proud of him and what he's done for others in his life. If he doesn't want to see me then I understand that, I can see why, kind of, Its hard though :(
~~Belldandy~~