Talk Morgan Forums Community The Malvern Arms The Uncle I never met

Feeling a little maudlin last night after toasting my Mum's birthday (she would have been 94) I thought I would share this poignant tale.

On the evening of 15th February 1941, SS Alnmoor a merchant vessel built in 1922 of 6,573 GRT was sunk by U boat U-123 400 miles off Rockall whilst on passage to Glasgow. She was carrying a cargo of flour and steel loaded in New York and Halifax. She had been part of convoy SC21 but was straggling behind. On board were variously documented 42 or 55 souls including 23 year old Alan Humphrey Foster having already made second officer, my Mothers brother. His death is acknowledged on the Tower Hill memorial.



My grandparents never discovered the fate of their son, they were simply told he had been lost at sea as so many I imagine. That was all my Mum and her siblings knew until these details were discovered on the Internet from mainly German records around ten years ago. I was so pleased to pass this info on to the family and finally give my now late Mum some closure, she being the only remaining sibling.

U-123 had an infamous record during WW2 sinking 42 ships totalling 218,813 GRT between 1939 and 1944 when it was laid up in the Lorient pens. During February 1941 it was commanded by Karl-Heinz Moehle, later described as a U-boat ace having the previous November sunk five ships in five hours.

An interesting story Richard, many folk had very hard times back then and sadly some never returned home.

I had one grandfather who was a stocker on HMS Relentless Destroyer and was posted in the far east, eventually patrolled the waters around HMS Nelson where the Japanese signed the surrender document

My othe grandfather was Devonshire regiment and posted to India again to take on the Japanese, he returned home with STD's after a long stay in hiospital. The STD's were (Syhphalis) unfortunately transferred to my grandmother who eventually 'went mad' because of it...very sad times

I have my grandfathers Devonshire cap badge and war medals

Devonshire regiment

Ronald William Davies India WWII Devonshire regt 1 by Robert & Ali Davies, on Flickr


Ronald William Davies India WWII Devonshire regt 2 by Robert & Ali Davies, on Flickr

They always had a salute or a cigarette in their hands in those days. I have a few nice photos like the bottom one.

Our generation has a lot to thank this one for.

My relatives also served in WWII across the globe , one was a navigator in a Lancaster which was shot down over France and was hidden by the macquis, another was torpedoed off Gibralter and spent 7 hours in the sea before rescue, those were the lucky ones who made it back, two did not.

But although these servicemen and women were the "heroic" ones , we have to also remember those who stayed at home. My father worked incredibly long hours getting the Chain Home radar system operational before the Battle of Britain. My mother spent an equally deprived period as a Wren in Greenock taking radio messages from our vessels out in the Atlantic and could quite possibly have taken the distress call from the Alnmoor. The one that affected her most was a Mayday call from the converted aircraft carrier "HMS Dasher" that went down in the Clyde with almost all hands after an explosion, and a resulting fireball.

Coincidently, my late Dad would have been 100 today Feb1st. He joined the Terras at 16 to make sure he was amongst the first to be called up and spent 8 years in the infantry, ending up in Germany in charge of food parcels for the starving German civilians at war's end. Nearly all his mates were killed during the hostilities and he wore the guilt of survival until his last breath.
We can have no idea what that is like except from afar.

My father was sent as a 16 year old from Vienna in 1938 to Bradford to stay with friends of his parents to escape impending Nazi occupation. Joined up in 1941, built Nissan huts in Scotland for the next 3 years for PoW camps until it was remembered that native German speakers might be useful post June 1944. He spent two years interrogating captured troops as many of the SS tried to pass themselves off as either non-commissioned or regular army. Then worked on Nuremberg Trials demobbed in 1947. His parents escaped in 1939 to England, off his other 17 relatives going into 1939, 2 made it to 1945.

I count my blessings and my good fortune to have never had to fight in a war, I owe a debt of gratitude to those who did their duty and fought for the peace we enjoy today.


My maternal great grandfather was a very proud Scot who lived in Wednesbury in what is now the West Midlands. When the Boer War broke out and there was a call to arms, my great grandfather would not join the local Staffordshire regiment (as did many of his work colleagues and friends) he wanted to fight alongside fellow Scots. Not having the spare money to buy a rail ticket, he walked from Wednesbury to Stirling Castle well over 250 miles to join a Scottish regiment . His Boer war medals are now in the Museum in Edinburgh Castle There is a family heirloom from him, a gold watch guard/chain made from the gold he picked up whilst fighting the Boers in South Africa. Those were the days of a sense of civic pride and duty, he was awarded a gold medallion by the town council for being the best dressed man in Wednesbury that he proudly worn on the end of his watch chain.

My father served his national duty in Germany at the end of 40's he was a Sargant in the Military Police, I always remember his service truncheon was a heavy beast of a thing, it was traditional to hollow out the centre of the truncheon and fill it with lead, as bringing order to drunk quite fit servicemen could be a challenge. Whilst on patrol in depths of winter in Cologne, he came across a heavily pregnant women on the ground in the snow going into advanced labour. Only just eighteen at the time, there was no help around so he took off his great coat put the women on it and helped the birth, cut the cord, then found help and got mother and the baby boy to hospital. He always recalled how proud he felt at that at the moment ., but the next day he was up on a charge and fined for the state of his great coat following the birth on it......he always maintained the fine was worth it.

regards

My paternal grandfather served on the western front at the end of WW1 and was hit by shrapnel during the big push just days from the end of the war. He lost one leg and nearly lost the other. During WW2 he served in the home guard teaching marksmanship. My other grandfather was a bandsman in the Essex regiment but was invalided out when war broke out because he had lost an eye in a silly childhood accident. He served in the ARP. Other than a great uncle's son killed flying a Spitfire my family came through unscathed.

Caroline's Father was in the Supplementary Reserve, Royal Engineers in 1938 and went into active service at the outbreak of war. He was involved with building works in the UK until 1944 when he landed in France two days after D Day. He ended up in Hamburg, involved with the reconstruction of the Docks and didn't return to the UK until 1946. He didn't fire a shot in anger, but did get an OBE for his work in the reconstruction of Germany. He had fond memories of Germans, but a vitriolic hate for the Nazi party and the SS in particular after leading a group of engineers to clear up the mess of Bergen Belsen.

My Dad was an electrician at Stewarts and LLoyds steelworks in Corby, so a reserved occupation.

In the first war my Grandfather was in France, in the trenches. He was seriously wounded, with a fractured skull when a trench mine exploded, the converted "Blighty" wound, by the time he recovered, which he did in full, the war was all but over. He was awarded a MM for defending a salient with his Lewis gun. A lucky man. In WWII he joined, then left the Home Guard: he always said that they were a joke.

Caroline's Grandfather was a GPO Engineer and having served in South Africa in the Boer Wars he was in a reserved occupation. In WW2 he was very much like Jones in Dad's Army!

Like most of my generation I was not involved in any conflict, but Caroline was, growing up and living in Northern Ireland through the "Troubles", as the daughter of a senior government official who was a retired Army Officer the family were frequently targeted and left in 1973 following a serious death threat from the IRA.

As an aside, I am not impressed with the way this society looks after those who have given service in the Armed Forces. They deserve more of us.

My Uncle was called up into the Lincolnshire Regiment at 18 and put ashore on D Day not long after. Miraculously he survived, but was injured by a land mine and sent home to be treated. To delay being sent back he volunteered to be trained as a sniper, and was such a good shot that after the was he was banned from the shooting range in Blackpool Pleasure Beach. He ended up in Palestine and one day when his watch strap broke, he bent down to retrieve the watch and a sniper killed the soldier behind him.

My Great Uncle was an armourer on Lancasters at Scampton and Hemswell. They ended up in the far east where they set up camp on a mosquito infested swamp, and many of the airmen contracted malaria. His stories from the war are legendary, especially from just before war broke out. He came from a tiny village near Gainsbrough, and volunteered for the RAF because he didn't want conscripting into the army.

A bloke I worked with....his mother was German. She had three brothers, Infantry, Tank Commander, Sniper. Only the sniper survived the war.

There must be so many great stories from the war which will never see the light of day. I visited the museum at Scampton with SBM and Kev a couple of years ago, and it's worth a look.