EAST TRENT CHURCHES
Besthorpe, Clifton, Collingham,
Girton, Harby, Holme, Langford, South Scarle, Thorney, Winthorpe
|
EAST TRENT CHURCHES
|
|
'And al above, depeynted in a tour, Part I: Meet Gladys in London At the time of the Second World War a young priest Brian Woodhams2 and his wife Vera lived and worked in a parish in the East End of London. During the early 1940s the Nazi blitz of London was at its height and the East End took more than its share of the bombardment. The daily bombing lasted for several weeks and huge swathes of the great city were razed to the ground killing thousands of service personnel, war-workers, and civilians who lived and ran businesses in the area. The German bombing was so regular that Londoners could set their clocks by the sound of their incoming aircraft engines. It was generally reckoned at the time that you could depend on a raid at six-o'clock each evening. During this period the young Vicar and his vivacious wife ministered to young and old who lived in the area and in the tenement flats that provided much living accommodation in the crowded and busy city. They often helped to take food and sustenance up stairs and lifts to housebound people who lived several floors up in these buildings. Sometimes the soup didn't quite get there in one whole portion! But it (and the all-important human contact) was always warmly welcomed. One such flat-dweller, whom we shall call Gladys, lived on the top floor with her husband Jim and Luke, her tabby cat. She could regularly be seen queuing outside Mr Brown's, the local butcher's shop, pleading for a bit of offal or some lights for Luke's meal; or in the long evening queues at Mrs Perie's for Jim's favourite: the increasingly important Fish and Chips, "in newspaper with salt and vinegar, please". ('Bring Your Own Paper, There's a War On!') Gladys was a woman of independent spirit, who had a strong traditional Christian faith. Her family tried to persuade her to go and live with friends in comparative safety in the country. She politely declined, acknowledging that it might be sensible for the children to be evacuated from the area to the Midlands but her place was "in London, thank you very much". Brian and Vera knew her well and often visited her at home. Her husband, was a watch and clock repairer. He was a veteran of the First World War, and inaccurately registered his age to ensure his acceptance into the Terriers (Territorial Army Reserve unit). Jim fought as one of them in the battlefields at Ypres and in the trenches of Belgium and France, and had some horrific memories of that war. Although he was gassed, wounded, and severely shocked, he was one of the few in his regiment to return home alive. Gladys was very fond and proud of her two sons. Frank, her elder son, was a ship's engineer in the Merchant Navy. At the beginning of the war his vessel was torpedoed and sunk by a Nazi U-boat in the violent, tempest-torn, stormy North Atlantic. He and some other fortunate sailors were picked up from the ice-cold sea by a passing sister-ship in the convoy. The next day this was also torpedoed, and Frank and some survivors spent several days and nights in an open boat. The boat was overcrowded at first, and they endured ferociously heavy seas with waves as tall as houses, and close encounters with inquisitive whales and other leviathans of the deep. To keep alive, the struggling survivors munched their meagre chocolate rations and drank sparsely of any anodyne liquids, including their own urine. "You mustn't drink sea water you know". They organised exercises for their limbs and minds at the tiller, or the oars, by baling out water, undertaking look-out duties, and other tasks, by turns and in shifts. They also sang invigorating songs, like 'Underneath the Spreading Chestnut Tree' and 'One Finger, One Thumb, Keep Moving', with as many of the actions as they could muster to stave off the cold-inducing sleep-walk to death. Even the playful antics of a school of porpoises failed to lift their spirits. Many gradually fell victim to the relentless cold and wet, others died as a result of inhaling engine oil in the sea, or from burns and wounds sustained in the ship's destruction. Eventually a patrolling Royal Naval frigate found the few who were left, rescued them and took them to Scotland. After a spell in hospital they were allowed home on 'unpaid' sick leave. Their wages were stopped from the moment of sinking! Back home, and having no uniform (being civilians, merchant seamen didn't wear one), Frank was heckled in the street by local girls who taunted him about shirking active service. Gladys had some unequivocal words to say to the girls and their parents, who, when they knew the truth were immediately repentant and apologetic. "Well", she said, with a catch in her voice, "he's out there again now. These boys are risking their lives to bring food to our tables and weapons for our defences; and I'm not having any silly hussies jeering at them. So there!" Rod, her younger son, was a pilot in the RAF . . . Follow the link below for more about The Archdeacon's Tale! Part II Flights of Fancy! . . . next?
The Archdeacon's Tale! © Dr J Eric Ashton 2004. All rights reserved.
|
Our Priest in Charge of East Trent Churches & the Editorial Team thank our 91,734 page-visitors for supporting us up to beginning of July, 2010 Find a page > > > Contents If you quote or print anything from this Web-site please add a link to AnglicanCollinghamChurches.org in your Website. Thanks. Webmaster and Editor Dr J Eric Ashton To e-mail the Priest in Charge of the East Trent Churches Click : Priest in Charge
Click here to find Links to Other Sites © Music arranged and 'performed' by Dr J Eric
Ashton Copyright © Anglican Collingham Churches 24 July 2010. All Rights Reserved. This site was last updated on 24 July 2010.
You may find our special effects work best with the Microsoft Internet Explorer Browser |
The
