An Interesting Few Days

Yesterday and today have been very interesting for me.

Of course, like many of us, I'm full of gratitude and wonder that it's the 80th anniversary of VE Day. It's always been a special day for my family as my late Father was born on May 7th 1945. He always joked that once the Germans knew he'd been born, that was it, and they surrendered immediately!

However, yesterday, I was at a funeral, for one of my wife's aunties. It was a sad affair as one would expect, but also extra poignant, because it would have been my Father's 80th birthday. The funeral made the sadness invade somewhat deeper.

However, I was also reminded of my late Grandfather, Joseph Gallery (Sgt. Joseph Gallery in fact - of the Irish Guards). He served in the army before, during, and after WWII. He saw action in Palestine, Norway, North Africa and Italy. The youngest of 11, he lost two brothers (twins) in WWI on the Western Front and another brother in what became known as the Mesopotamian War in what is now Iraq. He lost two other brothers in WWII, one on the Burma Railway. He and another of his brothers made it through the war. He was one of my heroes.

The image above, which was in a newspaper recently is very familiar to me. I've seen it in books and online. However, I've also seen it in a picture frame. I was in a care home in Nantwich (Cheshire) in around 2006. I'd seen patients in a room set aside for me and my optical assistant. The staff first brought those patients who could walk or were in wheelchairs. My optical assistant had also seen an elderly, bedridden man. She had taken his intra-ocular pressures, checked his previous prescription, what medications he was taking and she'd put drops in his eyes to dilate his pupils. The staff told me not to bother with him as he 'Was a grumpy sod', in their words.

However, I went to see this man, and I was immediately drawn to the plethora of old framed photographs and also a beige beret festooned over the top corner of one large picture. The above image was one of those set around his room. Another was of this man in his youth, sat astride a camel. Other images were of him with Col. David Stirling, the founder of the SAS. This patient, now lying frail in his bed, had been one of the original SAS desert warriors. For me, it was the most exciting eye examination I've ever done.

Since I was a small boy, I wanted to join the military. I would always be running around with friends 'playing soldiers'. When I watched the storming of the Iranian Embassy in 1980, I was mesmerised and knew exactly where I wanted to be in the future. However, whilst at secondary school, I developed epilepsy and that was the end of any such dreams. I still haven't figured out what I want to do instead! I drifted through school with no intent and no drive. I left what was an expensive private school to go to the local sixth-form college. There, I was more interested in girls (having been to an all-boys school) and rarely put in an appearance in lessons. My father was very worried and tried to instil some drive in me by suggesting that I get a job or get out. So, my Mother found a job advert in the local press - Trainee Dispensing Optician, Conlon's Opticians, Ashton-under-Lyne. I reluctantly went to the interview and got the job. I've moved on and up since then, but I still wish I'd joined the military.

This is why I think back to that hero in that bed in that care home. The staff probably had little understanding of who he was and what he'd done. We got to talking during the eye examination. I would say I spoke with him for nearly an hour! He'd joined the commandos at 19 years old. From there, he'd fought in Syria against the Vichy French and then went to North Africa where he joined the SAS. Their exploits in North Africa, Sicily and Italy and then in Western Europe are legendary and changed the course of the war hugely in favour of the Allies.

One interesting story he told me was when the SAS had been fighting German paratroopers in Sicily. During what was a fierce fight, the German officer surrendered his men, saying it was too much of a waste of good men on both sides and that he'd never faced such brave soldiers.

A year before I saw the elderly ex-SAS soldier in Nantwich, I was at another home in Warrington (Cheshire). I was with a different optical assistant that day. She knew I was very interested in history, particularly that of WWII. She told me that the next patient who was going to come and see me had been a paratrooper in the war. I was, understandably, interested to meet and speak with this man. As my colleague put down the record card, I noticed the name was German. He had been a member of the fallschirmjäger, the German paratroop regiment during the war. I was amazed to speak to this elderly gentleman.

He and his friends had joined up, when the war started, not as fanatical Nazis, but as boys looking for adventure and excitement. They all tried to become fighter pilots! However, Otto, as I will call him, was tall and strong and was advised he could get plenty of excitement being a paratrooper. Back then, they climbed out across the wings of the transport aircraft before sliding off the back to parachute to the ground!

He had seen action at Stalingrad and recounted mowing down hundreds of unarmed Soviet 'troops', who would be shot by their own officers if they turned to run. When an armed soldier fell and dropped his weapon, someone running behind had to pick it up and continue pressing toward the enemy. Otto had no choice but to shoot his Mg-42 machine gun (also known as Hitler's Buzzsaw).

Having been wounded, he was sent home to recover and was then sent to Sicily. There, Otto was captured by the SAS! He spent the rest of the war as a POW at a camp near Wigan. There, after the war ended, the POWs were allowed to a local dance on Friday evenings. It was at one such dance that Otto met his future wife (who was also now a resident in the same care home). Otto continued to live in the UK after the war and raised a family with the English girl he'd met at that Friday dance.

Only later, after seeing the gentleman who was ex-SAS, did I think again about Otto and how the SAS captured him in Sicily and that these two may have met face to face many decades earlier after that fateful firefight. I have since considered this many times. How events can shape your future in so many varied and strange ways. Otto's English children ultimately owe their lives to WWII and their Father being captured by the SAS!

So, on this auspicious day, I remember the amazing people who defended this country. I think of those who now serve to protect us from a range of new threats. I am reminded of those near and dear who are no longer with us and are sorely missed. I think also, of how some people, whom we only meet briefly, can have a profound effect on us.