UKC

 I was born on 6 February 1934 at Parkstone where my parents had returned after leaving India. My sister was born August 1920. I turned 18 on the day H.M. The Queen came to the throne, my fourth Monarch. Anyone else still on UKC who can equal that? 

Eight months later I was called up for National Service now increased to two years due to major Empire crises: for me basic training Carlisle>.Officer training Mons >Germany where exercises at all levels were geared to one objective, to delay a Russian advance westwards, You could die for your country at 18 but you couldn’t vote until you were 21. 

My sense of history however, is enhanced by the fact that three generations take me back to the end of the 18th century, on both sides of the family, in both male and uterine lines. My father, a railway engineer who served 12 years in uniform (though not a professional soldier) was b. Sunderland 2 Jan 1890, and his father b. Newcastle 1864 d. 5 Feb 1937, the only grandfather I ever saw. .His wife, daughter of a Master Mariner who traded with Constantinople, but absconded to marry one of his employees had died tragically 1869-Jan 1901, just after my father had turned 11. 

But my mother's family is the most extraordinary, living in India from 1824 to independence. My mother's parents and grandparents along with her five elder brothers were born and many of the family died there but some settled in Australia, where their grandfather was born in Sydney in 1819. His father, was a  spinner , just at the time cottage industries gave way to industrialization,  born in. Tyldesley ca 1785.

To escape the collapse of wages? he joined the 48thRegiment of Foot (Northamptonshires) in 1803 when there was a serious fear of a French invasion, and fought through the terrible Peninsular War. His medal shows he was at five of the recognized major actions, including the battle of. Talavera, the most famous battle honour, where he was wounded and provisionally evacuated home. He was selected for promotion to the newly created rank of Colour Sergeant (CSM) on returning to Spain. The Regiment was so decimated that it did not go to Waterloo, but sent as Garrison Regiment to the nascent colony of New South Wales. With him was his brother (a weaver) whom he had recruited when back in England and was currently stationed up the coast at Port Macquarie.  It was on the way to condole over the loss of yet another child, that he suddenly died of a stroke when the ship put in at barren Newcastle in November 1823. His widow (b. March 1789, Llanelly Glamorganshire) had no alternative but to go with the Regiment when it left for Madras in March 1824. There she remarried and was buried in St George’s Fort (1847), a gallant soldier like the husband she married (Feb 71814) before the battle of Orthez. 

That is why I have a long sense of history.. Please excuse the ramblings of an 88 year old born at 4am today

Thanks for sharing that and here's to more than a few years still to come.

Slainte Mhath from Gairloch.

Happy Birthday, John.

A very happy birthday to you, John.  Clare and I hope to see you at some point soon.

Happy birthday. And very interesting. A close friend/work colleague  has many connections with Tyldesley. Only a small village back then….   

Health and even longer life. Thanks for your families service.

Happy Birthday lad!

Happy birthday!

You were born three days after my dad, though sadly he only made it to 60. He got sent out to Suez during his national service, by accident - they got him as far as Cyprus, realised their mistake, and flew him home.

What a fascinating family history!

A fascinating family history. Have a happy birthday, and hopefully, many more. Penblwydd hapus. 

Impressive history! Best wishes. 

Great story about your family history. Happy birthday.

Thanks for sharing, your past makes and shape's you, have a great day.

Happy birthday and many more.

That's a lineage to be proud of. 

Happy Birthday young man, and I hope you have a lovely day and happy years ahead. What an amazing treasure chest of memories you have - thank you for sharing.

Happy belated birthday. What an amazing story! 

Many thanks to all for your kind responses and wishes. I was very hesitant about posting what was essentially a personal story but your replies and oh horror likes have made me glad I did. 

I feel it's necessary for us to get your post to exactly 88 likes!

Have a like, interesting read and I went to grammar school in Parkstone many years ago, remember the area well.

That is a lot of history you have there, thanks for sharing it and enjoy your birthday.

Happy birthday....and for the very interesting read....your service to the country is deeply appreciated and respected....

I'm just opening a beer....this one is for you...cheers..

Happy birthday!

just so long as it’s not  exceeded, the likes ;    Hopefully in life it will exceeded by a good margin 

  Many happy returns 

What lovely post 

Thanks for that John, you beat me by 10 years! I was born in Devon at 7 am on 6th February 1944. I can only claim 2 Monarchs!

I am really interested in family histories. I can't go back as far as you, although I do have a Kentish grandfather who was hanged for being a member of a smuggling gang in the 18th century!

My father was in the RAF in which he had served as an Engineer Officer and test pilot in the Middle East both before, when he briefly saw action on the North West Frontier and after the outbreak of WW2. He had served in the see saw war of the Western Desert, the siege of Malta and the Invasion of Sicily, before being posted back to Britain to become involved with the RAF's planning for the Invasion of Europe. He landed in Normandy on D Day plus 2 and immediately became involved in preparing and constructing a number of advanced landing grounds with maintenance units to salvage and repair aircraft damaged in the fighting, after which he volunteered to join Bomber Command and was flying Lancaster Bombers in night raids against targets in Germany during the final year of the War. He was lucky to survive, I know he lost a lot of friends.

My mother was a Canadian who had volunteered to join the WAAF at the beginning of the War. She was a WAAF driver at RAF Biggin Hill during the Battle of Britain and was present during the heavy Luftwaffe bombing raids on the airfield.

Her brother, also Canadian, and my uncle, had been a pilot with the RAF prior to the War. So with the outbreak of war he served in the the Norway Campaign, flying Hurricanes as a Sgt Pilot. On return to the UK he fought in the Battle of Britain where he shot down 2 enemy bombers. However on the second occasion his Hurricane was shot down by return fire from the Dornier's gunner and he had to bale out, landing safely and unhurt in a field in Kent.

After Biggin Hill my mum was commissioned as a Codes and Cyphers Officer and posted to the then Palestine, sailing out in a troop ship via Durban and Suez. The plane in which she was then flown from Egypt to Palestine crashed on landing there killing 50% of the passengers. She was one of the lucky ones who survived and was uninjured.

It was whilst on leave from Palestine in 1943 that she met my father in Cairo, and they were married within a month of meeting. When she became pregnant with me she sailed back to the UK in a troop ship, part of a Convoy which was heavily attacked several times by Axis bombers as they sailed through the Mediterranean. Her ship was not hit, but others were sunk, which was lucky for me or I may never have been born!

My dad's father had been a farm labourer in Buckinghamshire and as a young man he used to take part in the sheep drives at the end of the 19th century along the Ridgeway to Wiltshire sleeping rough on the Downs and sustained  by bread and cheese. It was at a sheep fair near Salisbury, Wilts that he met by grandmother who was a young woman in service at a country house and they subsequently married and moved to Bucks where my grandfather founded and ran a small brush making business. Despite being a married man with 2 children he joined the Army in the Great War and served as a Private, a Driver in the Army Service Corps running the gauntlet of German Artillery night after night taking supplies up to the Front. 

I remember my 9th Birthday on 6th February 1952 as being a thoroughly miserable day with the news of the King's death, no radio programmes apart from news bulletins, and mournful solemn music being played on all channels. Everybody seemed to wear black arm bands, and the newspapers were edged in black.

Thank you also for your photo gallery.  I've never looked at it before and have really enjoyed a look through this evening.

Very Happy Birthdays to JCW and Trangia. Fascinating histories, thanks for sharing. 

Yes indeed. What a treasure that gallery is. Just spent a damp February evening working my way through the 352 photos. Well worth it - and the very last photo, red sweater on Shrike. Classic.

I suspect that from your dad's history in the RAF that there is a shared history with my cousin that might interest you. And Looking at your profile I see some other interesting things in common. If you want send me an email and we can take it from there.

I went to one of those Clan gatherings eager to find out what fascinating history we had in the family. The room was packed with people from all over the world. The guy I kid you not stood up and yelled this. "Yer no even fermers! You come from fermer labourers".

The whole room sighed a sense of disappointment.  

No idea but I don't think there's many that can equal your photo gallery jcw, always a treat when you post something!

The combination of amazing locations and the magic of a different time in climbing/mountaineering makes most of the modern digital stuff posted seem like generic instagram fodder.

Happy Birthday!

That's  kind of you. I see your favorite crag is Brimham. That's where I did my first VS, Slippery Crack, 29 May 1963. Still got my green West Yorkshire guide book

Happy birthday, and thanks for sharing the story.

Family histories can provide some interesting stories, though nothing in mine matches yours.  I traced the paternal line back to what the satellite photo on Google maps shows to now be a field near Castleisland in Kerry; otherwise it's just miners, farmers, early deaths and women having huge numbers of children, many of whom died very young.

My wife's family is a little more interesting. There are some people back down the maternal line who lived very close to where the women convicted in the Pendle witch trials lived, at the time they would have been around.  On her father's side, there are people living in south west Wales who suddenly upped sticks to bear the next generation in Hertfordshire at the time that Henry VII became king.  Part of the household staff, perhaps?

It all makes me glad to live in a time of modern medicine.

Anyway, I'll raise a glass to you this evening.  Cheers!

T.

Yes it's a wonderful place, pretty much where I learned to climb along with Scugdale and Almscliff. My parents have long since left the area so I'm well overdue a visit! 

Incredible, thank you for sharing