World War Two has always played a large part in the history of my family, with both of my grandfathers having enlisted in the forces to do ‘their bit’. While they had different military experiences, there can be no doubt their involvement affected them for the rest of their lives. Like most of that generation, they spoke little of the grim side of things, but sometimes tales were told, which has formed the essence of my blog. So, this is their story in two parts. I hope you enjoy reading it.
My grandparents, David William Davies and Gertrude James, known to friends and family as Dai and Gertie, met at Bryngwyn Mawr Farm, Llandre. They are shown on the 1939 census as living and working there, as an agricultural labourer and domestic servant respectively. Because of an accident when he was younger, where a horse stood on his hand, Dai could not bend his trigger finger as it had healed straight, and therefore he could not be sent to the frontline. Despite working in agriculture, which was a reserved occupation, he still wanted to participate in the forces and so joined the Royal Artillery on the 16th October 1941. He became a gunner and was stationed in London on the “ack ack” guns. Dai’s soldier’s service and pay book, lists the leave he took throughout his military career, and he was granted ‘privilege leave’ of 9 days on the 26th January 1942 to come home and marry Gertie. The picture below is of the wedding at Aberystwyth Registry Office on the 30th January 1942. Next to Dai was his best man, Uncle Dickie, Tynpwll, who had joined the Home Guard; next to Gertie was her best friend, Margaret Roberts and her father, Thomas James. After the wedding they lived with Gertie’s parents on a farm in Ystumtuen, although Dai resumed his military career and returned to Stratford in London when his leave had finished.
Winston Churchill visited where he was stationed with one of his trademark cigars. Dai and his fellow gunners were envious of this as their cigarettes were rationed to around 5-10 Woodbines a day. Churchill was politely told that he could not smoke where they were and so he just dropped the cigar on the floor. The gunners were hoping to pick it up when the prime minister had moved on, but unfortunately, he did a very good job of stubbing it out with his foot, so it was not smokeable afterwards. They were not impressed and very disappointed. I cannot repeat here what they said!! He was also very lucky not to have been killed when he forgot to jump away when the guns rebounded upon firing, he ended up with only broken ribs. No doubt it was easily done in the heat of battle, when the German bombers hooked onto the lights and came diving down at you, using the lights as guides, which he said happened frequently.
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| Top Left: Llew Francis, Top Right: Ben Gudge, Bottom Left: Archie Phillips, Bottom Right: Dai Davies |
After hostilities ceased, he spent some time in the port of Wilhelmshaven as part of the army of occupation. When he was on guard duty, a senior officer tried to get past him without appropriate papers, but my grandfather stood his ground and refused the officer access, until he showed him the correct identification. He was commended for this by superiors later. Regarding the town itself, he was shocked to see how devastated it was, and had a lot of sympathy for the civilians there. It was virtually flattened, and people were living in their cellars. They were starving and used to exchange whatever they had for food and cigarettes, which is no doubt how he obtained a small ring of a destroyer (below) which we still have in the family.
He also used to comment on how generous the American soldiers were to both the British and the Germans. They would quite often ask “you ok for cigarettes Taffy?” Then they would throw a box of 200 at him for which he was very grateful and impressed. They were just as generous with their food rations too. The Canadian soldiers on the other hand, unfortunately, were a bad experience for him. There were a group of them in a bar that were being rather loud and noisy. Dai was part of a group of British soldiers trying to keep to themselves, but the Canadians were having none of it and started calling them “yellow” and accusing them of cowardice. One of the group, a man from South Wales, could take no more and called out the loudest of the Canadian soldiers. They went outside and a fight ensued. It was not pleasant so details will not be provided here, but the British man had to be restrained before he went too far. It is clear that not all was well between the so-called allies and my grandfather never trusted Canadians again, warning my father against them when he was older.
My father Tom (Thomas William Davies) was born on the 11th October 1944 and naturally does not remember much about his father during wartime. Dai was away for large periods but because he was a farm labourer, he was granted substantial amounts of unpaid agricultural leave at crucial times in the farming calendar, to return home to do what amounts to a second job. The first time Dai would have seen his son would have been during some ‘privilege leave’ granted for the end of December 1944 till January 1945, when they moved to their own home in 5 Melindwr Terrace, Capel Bangor. My father was told he used to push letters through the parlour door as if posting them to his dad. However, his first memory of his father was when Dai came home to stay in January 1946. He would only have been about 15 months old, and he saw this giant standing in the doorway, darkening the porch, with a teddy bear that was bigger than Tom was. He was so scared he ran away from his dad, which naturally hurt Dai.
A close relationship was established quite quickly afterwards though as the picture above shows. Indeed, so much so that when I was a toddler, my parents were all ready to emigrate to Canada for a better life; all my father had to do was sign the papers. My grandfather persuaded him not to go, saying it would kill his mother to see her only child and family disappear to the other side of the world. I cannot help but feel that his experience in the war also contributed to this, and he did not want to see his only son and family going to a country he mis-trusted. As it is, we stayed in Ceredigion and my parents are now living in Aberystwyth, keeping the family home. Dai, being an orphan and pushed from pillar to post, would have been very proud of this, I’m sure.
Blog by Theresa Ryley
Photographs (c.) Theresa Ryley
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