Wonderful hot sunny morning at Woodlands sitting in the garden listening to our varied stories. Bill told of a soldier storming the beaches in 1944. Joan told of the trials trying to grow plants in a garden. Ann about a boy in a coma. John a young officer posted to the far flung empire in Queen Victoria's reign. Pat told of their invite to celebrate the Queen's 50th anniversary. Sally told us more of her adventures in the air force when she was posted abroad. Sheila recounted the frustration of teachers in dealing with unruly children.
Next month the "compensation to pay"
A record set today as seven people voted for one story, making Joan Read the outright winner.
That Annoying
Well Angela said to her friend Mavis was that annoying or not for the fourth year running her sponge cake had come second in the competition at the village fete on the WI stall. "Well that's it" she said "no more cakes I shall do something else." Mavis said "like what" well there are plenty of things to do flower arranging she would give that some thought French I don't think so if I remember rightly I did that at school and I'm pretty sure that my brain and memory were a lot better then. Writing no I have listened to some of the stories written by other people and they are just too good.
Mavis said, " Lets go and sit down and you can drown your sorrows over a cup of coffee" It was then I saw the poster Fed up with the same routine need some excitement and thrills then Skydiving is for you. I showed Mavis the poster and said "this is it" well after she had stopped coughing she had chocked on her coffee she said "are you mad you're 68" well that did it I said "I may be but that is not old" and I rang the number on the poster and made an appointment to go for an assessment the following day.
The next morning I rang Mavis to see if she wanted to come but she replied she had no wish to see me make a fool of myself so I went alone. I was met by a young lady named Francis who told me all about the routine. I would participate in a Tandem skydive which many older people preferred and she played several DVD's of this. She then introduced me to Gary or as she called him the main man who I would be with if I decided to jump. I must admit to being a bit scared but thought I have come this far so I signed the papers but to my horror I was told that as the weather was expected to hold for the next week I could jump if I wished on Wednesday I agreed. Francis asked me to be at the centre for 9 o'clock. When I got home I rang Mavis and told her she said "well if you are intent on killing your self you might as well do it for charity" I thought what a good idea and made out two forms one for the restoration of the local church and one for NSPCC.
The next day I went round and saw everyone I could think of family and friends and by the end of the day both forms were full either side, which I was quite pleased about.
Wednesday dawned sunny and warm and I made my way to the centre I was met by Gary who said we would be jumping at around 2pm this morning would be spent learning the ropes and the moves. All to soon 1.30pm arrived and as we were making our way to the plane I heard a lot of noise and there was Mavis with a number of the ladies from the WI shouting and waving cameras about I put on a brave face waved and boarded the plane. Soon we were up in the air and Gary started attaching the belts and cords that would keep us together and then the door opened and before I knew it we had jumped My cheeks felt as if they were trying to get to the back of my head I looked down and could see the fields, trees and the roads and they were rushing up to meet us when all of a sudden we seemed to go back up and I realised that Gary had opened the parachute and then we were gliding down going left and right as he pulled the cords it was wonderful just as we came to land he said knees up and his feet touched down and then I put my feet down we ran a short distance then stopped. It must have been all over in about 5min but I would never forget the feeling. I thanked Gary and went over and joined my friends we all went into the centre where we had champagne and nibbles and I was presented with my certificate. "Well" Mavis said "what are you going to do next" I replied "that I would have to give that some thought" But that evening when all the bones and muscles in my body ached I came to the conclusion that coming second in cake making was not so bad after all.
Monday, 29 June 2009
Monday, 1 June 2009
June Story
Nicest day of the year so far bright sunshine and very warm. Rosemary joined us for the first time. Sue started us off about the young woman reminded of her past when she stole an eclair. Sheila gave a description of her day at the Wembley cup final. John told us about the Scottish MP and fishing restrictions. Brian a trader with a honey tongue. Joan E a family saga. My effort was about the top of the food chain. Rosemary and hiding the post. Joan R on hidden letters from another age. Ann told of a prank to make a car less in demand for lifts
The winner was Pat's.
Stuffed out of sight
This was to be the theme of our small writers group next project.
I wrote the words on a page from my notebook and put it on the kitchen table, waiting for the" brilliant idea". When, after a while nothing came to mind, I tucked it under the place mat.. you know that old saying, out of sight out of mind.
As it wasn't raining I decided to do a spot of gardening. The gardeners among you will know there is no such thing as a spot of gardening, one thing leads to another and before you know Its time for lunch.
I watched our friendly squirrel hanging by his toe nails trying desperately to eat the peanuts through the supposedly squirrel proof wire, he won. Still no brilliant idea! Finished lunch and returned to the garden. Oh good, those blue crystals had worked their magic and there was a slimy mess left by some hungry snails and slugs, the birds will finish those off. I love these new green slug baits. Whilst tucking long daffodil leaves under the heather to dry of, stuffed out of sight? ?Yes, No.. I spied a huge ants nest in the middle which I poked it about until the ants were running around with their creamy eggs in a panic. Then left them to the waiting robin.
We have had this huge Clematis Armandii in an old water butt which was well passed its re potting date by about 15 years. As its an early bloomer we didn't want to lose it, so decided to remove it from the tub and replant close by. Well, first off we couldn't lift it or dig it out, so my dear husband brought out his saw and cut straight down one side. As this didn't help at all he cut down the other side. This left a hard plastic flap which sprang up every time we tried to lift out the plant. In the end we rolled it slowly on its side desperately hanging on to the long branches and finally put it in the freshly dug hole. It sat there looking at us as the hole was too shallow by about 6". By then we had had it. After 3 days we gathered our strength and tools, we must plant this plant! It took both of us on our knees with a shovel, spade and a plank of wood to lift it out of its hole, dig a little deeper and finally re- plant it. Hooray. I took a couple of cuttings from the branch that had annoyingly snapped, just in case.
At the end of the day, whilst enjoying a well earned cup of tea and cake, I looked at my note again and still couldn't come up with a decent idea for a story, so I stuffed it out of sight, again.
The winner was Pat's.
Stuffed out of sight
This was to be the theme of our small writers group next project.
I wrote the words on a page from my notebook and put it on the kitchen table, waiting for the" brilliant idea". When, after a while nothing came to mind, I tucked it under the place mat.. you know that old saying, out of sight out of mind.
As it wasn't raining I decided to do a spot of gardening. The gardeners among you will know there is no such thing as a spot of gardening, one thing leads to another and before you know Its time for lunch.
I watched our friendly squirrel hanging by his toe nails trying desperately to eat the peanuts through the supposedly squirrel proof wire, he won. Still no brilliant idea! Finished lunch and returned to the garden. Oh good, those blue crystals had worked their magic and there was a slimy mess left by some hungry snails and slugs, the birds will finish those off. I love these new green slug baits. Whilst tucking long daffodil leaves under the heather to dry of, stuffed out of sight? ?Yes, No.. I spied a huge ants nest in the middle which I poked it about until the ants were running around with their creamy eggs in a panic. Then left them to the waiting robin.
We have had this huge Clematis Armandii in an old water butt which was well passed its re potting date by about 15 years. As its an early bloomer we didn't want to lose it, so decided to remove it from the tub and replant close by. Well, first off we couldn't lift it or dig it out, so my dear husband brought out his saw and cut straight down one side. As this didn't help at all he cut down the other side. This left a hard plastic flap which sprang up every time we tried to lift out the plant. In the end we rolled it slowly on its side desperately hanging on to the long branches and finally put it in the freshly dug hole. It sat there looking at us as the hole was too shallow by about 6". By then we had had it. After 3 days we gathered our strength and tools, we must plant this plant! It took both of us on our knees with a shovel, spade and a plank of wood to lift it out of its hole, dig a little deeper and finally re- plant it. Hooray. I took a couple of cuttings from the branch that had annoyingly snapped, just in case.
At the end of the day, whilst enjoying a well earned cup of tea and cake, I looked at my note again and still couldn't come up with a decent idea for a story, so I stuffed it out of sight, again.
Monday, 27 April 2009
27th April
Another mixture of stories with one common theme, "nothing". John's was adventures underground. Joan Read read a disturbing tale of death coming to a family. I recounted a story of anticipated passion. Joan Edmunds told of a missing Premium Bond. Sue told of a woman who floated out into the sea while asleep to be rescued by a fisherman. The question was asked did she marry him but we will perhaps have to wait to find out. Sally told of a spider in the salad based on a real event. Sheila told of childhood memories. Pat gave us the background history to Corfe Castle. Ann took us back into caving.Brian's got the most votes a tale of long ago.
NOTHING
Gone is the forge, with its leather-aproned, shirtsleeved men, sweating in hoof-burned, acrid-dimness. Pulling out white-hot metal from the roaring furnace's eye-catching glow, with long tongs. Then knocking into shape, the hiss and the whisps of steam as the horse shoe's were dipped into the bubbling water.
Gone the sudden jangle of chain and brass, the creak And stomp over us as the great Shire horse's turned at The plough on the headland high banked above the deep Lane. Glancing brown-eyed and black hair-fringed,
Down at us as they passed by.
Gone the square, brass-buckled and broad-shining leather Belted, hobnailed booted men who shovelled coal into Heavy course sacks, which were them loaded onto the Lorries.
Gone are the people who came out from they cottages
With bucket and crook to dip water from their wells.
Gone are the nightingales with bramble-hills and willow,
Which hid, sheltered, nested and fed them, and the night jar,
Spinning its purring web of sound from the centre of the
moonlit field.
Gone the flocks of starlings that rose in dense clouds, to descend into the reed-beds at the mouth of the river,
bending the stems under their weight.
Gone are the Romanies that lived in the forest.
Gone are the Hares, you would see as many as 20 pounding
Round the fields. Grunting, Kicking, Bucking, they boxed
Like Kangaroos, jumping over each other, lashing-out With their hind feet. You never see that in March any more.
Gone are the clicking of milk bottles on the door step in the Morning. Gone are the cry of the RAG & BONE man as he pushes his barrow up the street. Gone are the large white £5 notes.
Gone...." ARE YOU GOING TO SIT THERE ALL DAY? YOUR TEA'S READY, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN
THINKING OF"?
OH! NOTHING
NOTHING
Gone is the forge, with its leather-aproned, shirtsleeved men, sweating in hoof-burned, acrid-dimness. Pulling out white-hot metal from the roaring furnace's eye-catching glow, with long tongs. Then knocking into shape, the hiss and the whisps of steam as the horse shoe's were dipped into the bubbling water.
Gone the sudden jangle of chain and brass, the creak And stomp over us as the great Shire horse's turned at The plough on the headland high banked above the deep Lane. Glancing brown-eyed and black hair-fringed,
Down at us as they passed by.
Gone the square, brass-buckled and broad-shining leather Belted, hobnailed booted men who shovelled coal into Heavy course sacks, which were them loaded onto the Lorries.
Gone are the people who came out from they cottages
With bucket and crook to dip water from their wells.
Gone are the nightingales with bramble-hills and willow,
Which hid, sheltered, nested and fed them, and the night jar,
Spinning its purring web of sound from the centre of the
moonlit field.
Gone the flocks of starlings that rose in dense clouds, to descend into the reed-beds at the mouth of the river,
bending the stems under their weight.
Gone are the Romanies that lived in the forest.
Gone are the Hares, you would see as many as 20 pounding
Round the fields. Grunting, Kicking, Bucking, they boxed
Like Kangaroos, jumping over each other, lashing-out With their hind feet. You never see that in March any more.
Gone are the clicking of milk bottles on the door step in the Morning. Gone are the cry of the RAG & BONE man as he pushes his barrow up the street. Gone are the large white £5 notes.
Gone...." ARE YOU GOING TO SIT THERE ALL DAY? YOUR TEA'S READY, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN
THINKING OF"?
OH! NOTHING
Monday, 30 March 2009
30th March
Meeting at John and Sheila's in their sunny front room by nine dedicated would be authors and very good stories to tell. Joan E told of the time we had a bonfire in our garden. Sue a very disturbing one about a child being abused. Ann wrote about promotion that brought tears to the eyes. John hot air balloon, Brian ghosts, Sheila about flowers and working at a garden nursery. My contribution compensation for an accident. But Joan Read came tops in the voting.
Tears
Fiona McNab sat on her bed and looked in the mirror, the image she saw was of a green eyed woman quite pretty but nothing out of the ordinary except for one thing, there was also another image looking at her in the mirror, that of a young girl. Her long black hair was braided and fell as two plaits either side of her shoulders, she wore a shift and on her feet were moccasins Fiona had seen this girl many times since they had moved into this ranch. Her husband Richard went ballistic when she mentioned it. He said that her ability to see people that were not there was just her imagination but she knew without a shadow of doubt that this girl whether she was a ghost an apparition or spirit needed help.
Fiona went outside into the paddock where she saw old Tom leaning on the fence he had been called this since he was 17. He was now in his 76th year. She asked him if there was anything unusual about this land." Well now" he said chewing on a piece of grass "the land here as far as you can see used to be Indian land and there is a legend that a massacre took place near here. A troop of cavalry returning from a battle with Cochise (who was a Chiricahua Apache) came upon this village and slaughtered the woman and children but this had never been proven."
Fiona thanked him and continued her walk, after about I5 minutes she came upon an old barn which looked as if it was about to fall down. Before she got to the door, it opened. Fiona could hardly breath her heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Just inside the door she saw the girl who beckoned to her. She went in and the door closed behind her. As her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw them. Woman and children some standing some sitting and some sleeping. Just as she was about to question the girl the door flew open and there was her husband, she said "Richard can you see them". He got hold of her shoulders and even though the tears were running down her face he shook her hard and yelled at her "do you really want everyone to think that you are mad" he was furious "enough of this nonsense" he yelled and with that he left. Just then Tom came in "You hear them don't you" he said "No" Fiona answered, "I saw them, they are here in this barn waiting for us. We need to dig up the floor". Tom said he would arrange for a machine and driver to come tomorrow. That evening when her husband came in Fiona kept quite she never mentioned the vision or the barn or about tomorrows event she knew he did not understand or believe.
The next morning when all was quiet the digging started it was not long before the first skeleton was found they could see that it was of a small child Tom phoned the sheriff and soon there were forensic scientist, anthropologists, historians and photographers all over the place by late afternoon 40 bodies had been found all of them were woman and children. When Richard finally arrived home Fiona could see by his face that their marriage was over but she knew it was worth it when she looked into the mirror that night and the image of the girl seemed to say "Thank you" and Fiona knew that she would not see her again. The bodies would be recorded and then buried according to Indian ritual on a sacred piece of land where hopefully they would remain in peace.
Tears
Fiona McNab sat on her bed and looked in the mirror, the image she saw was of a green eyed woman quite pretty but nothing out of the ordinary except for one thing, there was also another image looking at her in the mirror, that of a young girl. Her long black hair was braided and fell as two plaits either side of her shoulders, she wore a shift and on her feet were moccasins Fiona had seen this girl many times since they had moved into this ranch. Her husband Richard went ballistic when she mentioned it. He said that her ability to see people that were not there was just her imagination but she knew without a shadow of doubt that this girl whether she was a ghost an apparition or spirit needed help.
Fiona went outside into the paddock where she saw old Tom leaning on the fence he had been called this since he was 17. He was now in his 76th year. She asked him if there was anything unusual about this land." Well now" he said chewing on a piece of grass "the land here as far as you can see used to be Indian land and there is a legend that a massacre took place near here. A troop of cavalry returning from a battle with Cochise (who was a Chiricahua Apache) came upon this village and slaughtered the woman and children but this had never been proven."
Fiona thanked him and continued her walk, after about I5 minutes she came upon an old barn which looked as if it was about to fall down. Before she got to the door, it opened. Fiona could hardly breath her heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Just inside the door she saw the girl who beckoned to her. She went in and the door closed behind her. As her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw them. Woman and children some standing some sitting and some sleeping. Just as she was about to question the girl the door flew open and there was her husband, she said "Richard can you see them". He got hold of her shoulders and even though the tears were running down her face he shook her hard and yelled at her "do you really want everyone to think that you are mad" he was furious "enough of this nonsense" he yelled and with that he left. Just then Tom came in "You hear them don't you" he said "No" Fiona answered, "I saw them, they are here in this barn waiting for us. We need to dig up the floor". Tom said he would arrange for a machine and driver to come tomorrow. That evening when her husband came in Fiona kept quite she never mentioned the vision or the barn or about tomorrows event she knew he did not understand or believe.
The next morning when all was quiet the digging started it was not long before the first skeleton was found they could see that it was of a small child Tom phoned the sheriff and soon there were forensic scientist, anthropologists, historians and photographers all over the place by late afternoon 40 bodies had been found all of them were woman and children. When Richard finally arrived home Fiona could see by his face that their marriage was over but she knew it was worth it when she looked into the mirror that night and the image of the girl seemed to say "Thank you" and Fiona knew that she would not see her again. The bodies would be recorded and then buried according to Indian ritual on a sacred piece of land where hopefully they would remain in peace.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
February's winning story from Sheila
HOW ARE YOU GETTING ON?
Like many racing stables Sam's Stables were near to a racecourse. There were several races during the season and in a few weeks time there is due to be a big race. All the big names in the racing world will be there and tension was starting to rise even this early. I worked at Sam's Stables part-time, doing cleaning up and helping to keep the place tidy. It also entails making tea for the jockeys when they come back from the training runs. I am constantly amazed how small the jockeys are. I am not very big in stature but I feel enormous standing by the side of some of them. One jockey - Tony - seems to be child-size against the rest. He said that at school he was always the smallest and a teacher jokingly said that being a jockey would be ideal for him and the more be thought about if the more it appealled and so he joined Sam's Stables. Now, ten years later, he was one of the top class jockeys and horse owners were always after him to ride their horses. I likened him to Lester Piggott, being able to pick and choose which horse to ride. For this big race coming up he was riding a different horse each day so that he knew which one would be the best for this particular course. When he had chosen I was surprized how big the horse was. It seemed to be quite a bit bigger than the rest and it made Tony look smaller than ever. Without thinking I blurted out HOW ARE YOU GETTING ON? He just laughted and said "Don't worry about me- I will just have to get a bigger box to stand on"!!!
Like many racing stables Sam's Stables were near to a racecourse. There were several races during the season and in a few weeks time there is due to be a big race. All the big names in the racing world will be there and tension was starting to rise even this early. I worked at Sam's Stables part-time, doing cleaning up and helping to keep the place tidy. It also entails making tea for the jockeys when they come back from the training runs. I am constantly amazed how small the jockeys are. I am not very big in stature but I feel enormous standing by the side of some of them. One jockey - Tony - seems to be child-size against the rest. He said that at school he was always the smallest and a teacher jokingly said that being a jockey would be ideal for him and the more be thought about if the more it appealled and so he joined Sam's Stables. Now, ten years later, he was one of the top class jockeys and horse owners were always after him to ride their horses. I likened him to Lester Piggott, being able to pick and choose which horse to ride. For this big race coming up he was riding a different horse each day so that he knew which one would be the best for this particular course. When he had chosen I was surprized how big the horse was. It seemed to be quite a bit bigger than the rest and it made Tony look smaller than ever. Without thinking I blurted out HOW ARE YOU GETTING ON? He just laughted and said "Don't worry about me- I will just have to get a bigger box to stand on"!!!
Monday, 26 January 2009
26th January 2009
We met at Joan Read's on a nice day for January not cold nor wet. All the stories were very good, four gained equal votes so we took one from the hat which was Sue's to represent all of them.
SPREAD INFORMATION
Spreading information isn’t something we think very much about in the 21st Century. We take for granted that we have radio, television, phones, especially mobiles, and e-mail as well as newspapers. I did reflect on the phenomenal speed at which we receive breaking news when a plane performed an emergency landing in the Hudson River and the scene was snapped by a mobile phone user as the passengers emerged onto the wings. This amazing scene was flashed around the world even before the media knew about it!
Things were very different in past centuries, going back to when word had to be carried by messengers on foot or galloping from village to village on horseback, by town criers and more recently, during the previous two centuries, by telegram. Do you remember the telegram boys on their Post Office bikes, sporting their fetching uniforms and hats?
In times of war, those telegrams were viewed with dreadful fascination by wives and families waiting for news of loved ones. I know personally of one brave woman who had experienced these seesawing emotions, as what happened to her and her two year old son was a particularly cruel series of events.
Her husband, Ernie, was serving in the Royal Navy at the outbreak of war on 2nd September 1939. He was in the Mediterranean, expecting to return to port and a reunion with his wife and family, but his ship, HMS Glowworm, was diverted to the North Sea and on 8th April 1940 was sunk by the heavy cruiser Hipper during what some described as a foolhardy engagement and others hailed as an act of heroism. Many lives were lost, some in dreadful circumstances as oil insidiously crept around the sinking ship, coating and choking the hapless sailors who had managed to escape. The German propaganda machine later made full use of on- the-spot photographs of their rescue of some of the crew.
Meanwhile, Ellen had received the dreaded telegram from the Admiralty on 11th April, regretting having to report that her husband was missing, believed killed, on war service. Ellen began the heartbreaking task of going across the road every evening to listen to the nightly broadcasts from Bremen on her friend’s radio, naming British Naval prisoners, and she hoped to hear Ernie’s name and discover his fate. And fate certainly took a hand here, as one evening she was too ill to visit her friend. However, Mrs Lucas still listened and heard the announcer give a name that sounded like "Hurker". This was such scant information to go on that she said nothing, not wishing to raise Ellen’s hopes. Imagine everyone’s joy when Ellen received a telegram on the 25th April, to say, "Pleased to inform you information received from enemy sources that your husband Ernest …, Leading Signalman P/JX 132913, has been saved and is a prisoner of war and is injured."
Fourteen days of misery were at an end and there was much rejoicing among family and friends. Ellen told the Echo she had last seen her husband six weeks before when he came home on leave. On the day the first telegram came she had also received a very poignant letter from Ernie, saying it would be a long time before he would be home again. She had already bought mourning clothes when she heard of her tragic loss, but could now put them away again.
But cruel fate had not finished with Ellen, for some time later she received yet another telegram from the Admiralty, stating, "Deeply regret to inform you that information been received from Geneva that your husband Ernest … died on 22nd April 1940 in Trondheim Hospital and was buried in Stawne Cemetery, Trondheim on 30th April 1940." So all the time she had been celebrating the great news that Ernie had survived the sinking of the Glowworm, he was in fact already dead; such a tragedy for her and her son, Brian.
I am only a bystander in this family tragedy, but Brian grew up to become my husband and I still often think of their great loss, one of my ambitions being to visit that cemetery and pay my respects to the father-in-law I never knew.
Yes, times have changed so much and graphic pictures of the world’s tragedies often reach us via television within minutes of them happening. We certainly know how to spread information today.
SPREAD INFORMATION
Spreading information isn’t something we think very much about in the 21st Century. We take for granted that we have radio, television, phones, especially mobiles, and e-mail as well as newspapers. I did reflect on the phenomenal speed at which we receive breaking news when a plane performed an emergency landing in the Hudson River and the scene was snapped by a mobile phone user as the passengers emerged onto the wings. This amazing scene was flashed around the world even before the media knew about it!
Things were very different in past centuries, going back to when word had to be carried by messengers on foot or galloping from village to village on horseback, by town criers and more recently, during the previous two centuries, by telegram. Do you remember the telegram boys on their Post Office bikes, sporting their fetching uniforms and hats?
In times of war, those telegrams were viewed with dreadful fascination by wives and families waiting for news of loved ones. I know personally of one brave woman who had experienced these seesawing emotions, as what happened to her and her two year old son was a particularly cruel series of events.
Her husband, Ernie, was serving in the Royal Navy at the outbreak of war on 2nd September 1939. He was in the Mediterranean, expecting to return to port and a reunion with his wife and family, but his ship, HMS Glowworm, was diverted to the North Sea and on 8th April 1940 was sunk by the heavy cruiser Hipper during what some described as a foolhardy engagement and others hailed as an act of heroism. Many lives were lost, some in dreadful circumstances as oil insidiously crept around the sinking ship, coating and choking the hapless sailors who had managed to escape. The German propaganda machine later made full use of on- the-spot photographs of their rescue of some of the crew.
Meanwhile, Ellen had received the dreaded telegram from the Admiralty on 11th April, regretting having to report that her husband was missing, believed killed, on war service. Ellen began the heartbreaking task of going across the road every evening to listen to the nightly broadcasts from Bremen on her friend’s radio, naming British Naval prisoners, and she hoped to hear Ernie’s name and discover his fate. And fate certainly took a hand here, as one evening she was too ill to visit her friend. However, Mrs Lucas still listened and heard the announcer give a name that sounded like "Hurker". This was such scant information to go on that she said nothing, not wishing to raise Ellen’s hopes. Imagine everyone’s joy when Ellen received a telegram on the 25th April, to say, "Pleased to inform you information received from enemy sources that your husband Ernest …, Leading Signalman P/JX 132913, has been saved and is a prisoner of war and is injured."
Fourteen days of misery were at an end and there was much rejoicing among family and friends. Ellen told the Echo she had last seen her husband six weeks before when he came home on leave. On the day the first telegram came she had also received a very poignant letter from Ernie, saying it would be a long time before he would be home again. She had already bought mourning clothes when she heard of her tragic loss, but could now put them away again.
But cruel fate had not finished with Ellen, for some time later she received yet another telegram from the Admiralty, stating, "Deeply regret to inform you that information been received from Geneva that your husband Ernest … died on 22nd April 1940 in Trondheim Hospital and was buried in Stawne Cemetery, Trondheim on 30th April 1940." So all the time she had been celebrating the great news that Ernie had survived the sinking of the Glowworm, he was in fact already dead; such a tragedy for her and her son, Brian.
I am only a bystander in this family tragedy, but Brian grew up to become my husband and I still often think of their great loss, one of my ambitions being to visit that cemetery and pay my respects to the father-in-law I never knew.
Yes, times have changed so much and graphic pictures of the world’s tragedies often reach us via television within minutes of them happening. We certainly know how to spread information today.
Monday, 22 December 2008
22nd DEC 2008
All the stories were good and varied but Sally's was the outright winner with her unusual and amusing Christmas tale
HEAR ABOUT YOU
I asked my friend about the title for the next creative writing class and when she replied with "hear about you," I pulled a face and my thoughts were not polite, they were something like "Merry Blooming Christmas"
Oh dear! what would Santa Claus think about my ungracious thoughts, he would not be very pleased with my Baa humbug. 1 got to thinking about Santa and about all the good work he does by pleasing so many children, so my story is about Santa who always has a glowing smile.
Santa was riding his sleigh through the clouds he was deep in thought, one of his elves had gone sick, they worked to rule those elves, full of their own importance and they would never fill in for one another. Therefore poor Santa had to fill the sleigh himself and he was feeling too old for this job, if he had known about the elf going sick he would have telephoned the gnome kingdom but it was to late as the gnome kingdom had started with their parties and that's when they get up to their pranks. Last year they exchanged all the Barbie dolls for Cowboy and Indians sets. He had just arrived back to Wonderland and he was busy shampooing the soot from his rather grimy beard, when all of a sudden the screams from the Earth reached the very pinnacles of Christmas Wonderland.
All the pretty icicles snapped and never have the elves moved so fast as the icicles fell into the Action Man department, the icicles then skidded onto the Transformer department and there was utter chaos all the icicles were like rockets zooming around and eventually ended in the balloon factory. Bangl Bang! The continuous noise was horrendous. The Met office on earth issued a report that a freak thunder storm followed by very large hailstones had fallen in the south.
Santa shrugged his shoulders, enough of last year lets get started. He put the reindeer's onto remote pilot, they did enjoy whizzing through the clouds at breakneck speed, dodging the odd rocket on its way to the moon and when they found an aeroplane the reindeer's would ride alongside it and startled the passengers before they zoomed away into the clouds.
Santa fumbled in his mail bag and he drew out a bundle of letters from the children in Sleepy Town Valley. He began to read a rather grubby letter, Oh ho ho! I see that Johnny Sullivan is being greedy again, why do children of today want so much, they have no imagination, no fun, these items are all expensive, Nintendo ds, ipod, mobile phone, oh no no! Most of the letters read the same with the exception of one sad little letter from Maisy Lou Jones of 1 The High Street Sleepy Town Valley Dear Santa It was nice to hear about you and that you bring children presents at Christmas time but could you please give my present to the girl next door who is poorly and it might be her last Christmas, then she can smile just like you. Luv Maisy Lou. Santa took out his little red book and sprinkled star dust against 1 and 2 High Street, a special gift would be delivered there and there would be two smiling faces on Christmas day. Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas everyone.
HEAR ABOUT YOU
I asked my friend about the title for the next creative writing class and when she replied with "hear about you," I pulled a face and my thoughts were not polite, they were something like "Merry Blooming Christmas"
Oh dear! what would Santa Claus think about my ungracious thoughts, he would not be very pleased with my Baa humbug. 1 got to thinking about Santa and about all the good work he does by pleasing so many children, so my story is about Santa who always has a glowing smile.
Santa was riding his sleigh through the clouds he was deep in thought, one of his elves had gone sick, they worked to rule those elves, full of their own importance and they would never fill in for one another. Therefore poor Santa had to fill the sleigh himself and he was feeling too old for this job, if he had known about the elf going sick he would have telephoned the gnome kingdom but it was to late as the gnome kingdom had started with their parties and that's when they get up to their pranks. Last year they exchanged all the Barbie dolls for Cowboy and Indians sets. He had just arrived back to Wonderland and he was busy shampooing the soot from his rather grimy beard, when all of a sudden the screams from the Earth reached the very pinnacles of Christmas Wonderland.
All the pretty icicles snapped and never have the elves moved so fast as the icicles fell into the Action Man department, the icicles then skidded onto the Transformer department and there was utter chaos all the icicles were like rockets zooming around and eventually ended in the balloon factory. Bangl Bang! The continuous noise was horrendous. The Met office on earth issued a report that a freak thunder storm followed by very large hailstones had fallen in the south.
Santa shrugged his shoulders, enough of last year lets get started. He put the reindeer's onto remote pilot, they did enjoy whizzing through the clouds at breakneck speed, dodging the odd rocket on its way to the moon and when they found an aeroplane the reindeer's would ride alongside it and startled the passengers before they zoomed away into the clouds.
Santa fumbled in his mail bag and he drew out a bundle of letters from the children in Sleepy Town Valley. He began to read a rather grubby letter, Oh ho ho! I see that Johnny Sullivan is being greedy again, why do children of today want so much, they have no imagination, no fun, these items are all expensive, Nintendo ds, ipod, mobile phone, oh no no! Most of the letters read the same with the exception of one sad little letter from Maisy Lou Jones of 1 The High Street Sleepy Town Valley Dear Santa It was nice to hear about you and that you bring children presents at Christmas time but could you please give my present to the girl next door who is poorly and it might be her last Christmas, then she can smile just like you. Luv Maisy Lou. Santa took out his little red book and sprinkled star dust against 1 and 2 High Street, a special gift would be delivered there and there would be two smiling faces on Christmas day. Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas everyone.
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