This post is part of the "Granddad's War Stories" series.
A Taylor At War
To my daughters, Susan Anne Mosley and Mary Louise Vincent
My brother James Ian Taylor, who is writing the family history, asked me to produce a document dealing with my war experiences as part of his objective to pay as much attention to the narrative as to the pedigree.
After the world war of 1939-1945 I did write a document dealing with some of my experiences, but it was written for my former comrades and is, therefore, technical and refers to matters of no interest to you. In this work, I have tried to avoid technicalities and write it for you. I have completely avoided undue reference to the horror, death and misery of war. Make no mistake, there is no glory in war and it is to be avoided but not, I feel, at any cost. Had we lost this war, the consequences would have made life in these islands scarcely worth living.
I have dwelt on the happier or more amusing side of things and there were plenty of them. You see, the life of a soldier in wartime is divided into 90% of the time training for and waiting for something to happen and 10% wishing it wasn't happening. So I dwell mostly on the 90%.
For every memory I relate, there are a hundred I've forgotten. But of all my memories three things stand out, and they are all connected with faces. The ravaged and tortured features of a released prisoner of war at dusk as he trudged from unbelievable horrors to a home which might not still exist, the calm yet sad face of a woman in a crowd as she prayed, and the terror-struck face of a child. Yes, always the child.
___
Transcriber's note:
This book was written by Granddad to my Mum
& Auntie Louise in 1987. The preface gives an idea of his memories of, and attitude towards, what we now call World War II. Which is a bit flippant if you ask me - sounds like its a sequel, but anyway...
I should also point out I'm reading this along with you. Only transcribing a section immedietely after I read it. So I don't know what's coming.
What strikes me about this preface is that Granddad goes to great pains to point out he's concentrating on the sunnier side of war, before painting an incredibly gloomy picture of what might be in store. I shudder to imagine what he's left out here. However, I'm trying to get hold of his more 'technical'' manuscript, and will serialise that if this goes down well.
Chapter 1, Section 1 coming next Friday.
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