If you asked Robbie he would tell you that I am pretty good at spotting clues and gathering evidence, as he has found to his cost in the past - I don't miss much! Unfortunately the detective work that I am engaged in at the moment is even more difficult than keeping tabs on Robbie, because the clues are old and there is no one left who can tell me if my conclusions are correct. It is like trying to complete a jigsaw when most of the pieces are missing. That is the 'joy' of family history research, reaching out to grasp detail that you know is there but it is tantalisingly out of reach.
Over the last few days I have been making renewed efforts to identify the people in my grandmothers photo album. There are lots of photos of my dad, poor chap, I thought I'd had some dodgy outfits in my time but you should see what my grandma dressed him in! I also recognise my grandfather, my grandma and some of her siblings but most of the other people are strangers to me. I don't know if I should be grateful to my grandma for preserving the photos or infuriated that she didn't label any of them. Even the few that have writing on the back have proved challenging. I was overjoyed when I eased a photo of a family group out of the album and found that it had writing on the back, but my pleasure was short lived. The writing wished my grandmother a happy Christmas wit love from "us all". There should be a law against such things, if I had my way people would be compelled to write first names and surnames on the back of each photo!
My advice to others is not to jump to conclusions and to ask lots of questions, however foolish they sound, because that will give you more chance of getting to the truth. Thanks to the good people on the Roots Chat forum I now know more about my great uncle Frank Buswell. He died in World War 1 and his obituary described him as 'Driver Frank Buswell of the Royal Field Artillary'. To me a driver is a person who sits in a vehicle behind a steering wheel so I wondered why his uniform included spurs and a riding crop. I assumed that it must be some sort of tradition, but today I plucked up the courage to ask why. One of the Roots Chat members patiently explained that As a driver he would have rode/Controlled teams of horses that pulled the guns and equipment of the Royal Field Artillery so he would have worn spurs etc. Another mystery solved and in the process I have gained a more accurate picture of his military service.
When it comes to family history, finding answers is only part of the problem, the most difficult thing is finding the questions. There are things we do not know we don't know!
I was looking for a suitable heading for this blog post and I couldn't resist this one. Yesterday was one of those strange days when you are more consciously aware of the sorrows of the past that are always with you. If life had been kinder it would have been my wedding anniversary. That part of my life feels so distant now, almost like another lifetime, perhaps that is normal it was a long time ago and I was a different person then, younger of course and full of hope. I can't help remembering and wondering what might have been, but I also feel grateful for what we had and for the time that we shared. I can't change the past, I couldn't prevent Eric's death but he continues to live in our memories. Like it or not life goes on, you can't live in the past but you will carry it with you into the future.
My dad died over thirty years ago, I was only 6 when he became ill so there were many things that I wish I had been able to ask him but didn't have time to. I knew that he had been in the army during the latter years of the war, I even had a few pictures from that time but I wished I knew more about what he did and where he went. It was just one of the many things that I thought I would never know. Then completely out of the blue I was contacted by someone who told me that during the war the Post Office in Northampton produced a monthly newsletter called Northampton News sharing letters home from post office workers in the forces or doing war work. My dad had been a Post Office messenger before going into the army and his letters home were among those published in Northampton News.
The newsletters have been made available as scans, it is hard to read some of them, but I have picked through them and found the ones showing letters from dad, they start in 1943 when he was 17 and go on to 1945. It is a little glimpse of his army service in his own words so it tells us much more than his service record would show.
"On receiving the 'News' yesterday with the first mail I have had for a few days, it woke me to the fact that beside not getting any mail I hadn't had much chance of writing. We have bags of work now with our lads advancing so fast and have very little time to ourselves. I am now in Germany although I am glad to say that much of my work takes me into Holland. It seems to me that there won't be much left of Germany to occupy after the bashing it's had. I thought Caen (Normandy) was bad but it is nothing compared with some German towns. In some towns there is not one civilian left and not a house standing. Not just one or two places like this, but town after town.
Yesterday I got into camp at 4 o'clock after a week on the road and took my truck into 'shops'. I collected it at 10.30pm. Then first thing this morning I was off again and this letter is being written in one of my few breaks on the road. That's keeping the wagon rolling isn't it?" (early 1945)
The editors of Northampton news must have made a very big difference to to all those people so far from home, but they could not possibly have known what a difference their hard work has made to me so many years later. They have given my dad a voice over thirty years after his death and they have made it possible for him to tell me about himself in his own words. I wish I could thank them, but of course it is far to late for that. I would like to thank David who realised the value of the old copies of Northampton News and not only took the time to scan them, but also made an effort to share them with relatives of the letter writers. It has helped me to understand my dad a little better and I think I have a better understanding of how worried my grandma must have felt. When he joined the army at 17 my dad was only a few months older than my son is now, that is scarily young, she must have been so frightened for him.
'Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.' Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
