Shattered Dreams (28 page)

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Authors: Vivienne Dockerty

BOOK: Shattered Dreams
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“And sure, your Reverence, I’d have stumbled and fallen meself if I’d been carrying the weight of it!”

On the occasion of the trip to Galilee, Eddie was able to buy two necklaces made of delicate green and mauve shells to take home. Another souvenir was a small trinket box made by a German prisoner of war. The box had been made out of mess tins, the only available metal which the craftsman was able to get. Eddie thought that the man must have been a silversmith at least, for the quality of the work merited a much more precious metal than tin. It had been made with loving care, with a spray of roses on the lid, flowers and leaves adorning the sides of the box, with a pair of doves standing beak to beak, as though kissing. Engraved under the lid, a pair of doves stood on a leafy branch. Small pieces of glass had been inserted at intervals, colours that simulated precious stones. Had the whole work of art been in silver and precious stones, it would have been a collector’s piece.

Eddie had wished to pay the man for it, but he refused, though accepted fifty cigarettes from him. Neither of the men had sufficient command of the other’s language for conversation, but Eddie felt, like him, he had been conscripted into army service. Like Eddie, he would be only too happy to leave the war years behind him and pick up the threads of his civilian life again.

Eddie had other souvenirs, besides these, to take home. There was a pair of sparkly sandals for Irene and Egyptian bracelets, which were square pieces of metal with Pharaoh’s heads on them, linked together with thin chains. They seemed unique until Eddie saw that nearly all his unit had them. Some Egyptian entrepreneurs had been very busy supplying souvenirs for the British troops to take home with them.

Eddie was still on driving duties in Egypt and Palestine as his demob’ date drew nearer. Many of the older men had already gone, some of these had been regular army men, the ones with whom Eddie had trained. He would have liked to keep in touch with them, for they gave him comradeship that he had never known before or since. Many came from Southern Ireland and Eddie was Irish, by descent, but born in England. They had been his comrades; he had fought and endured hardship with them.

The regiment’s Quarter Master was due for demob’. His fellow officers put a rope on the staff car and drew it outside the main gate in traditional style. Eddie had the privilege of driving him to Port Said, which he deemed an honour, as this man had been very good to him during his time there. The first part of the journey was to a leave camp and afterwards he would board a ship for England. Eddie said his own farewell and was really touched to see the tears running down the elderly soldier’s face. Parting from the army where he had been so happy for many years was a very emotional time for him.

At the leave camp there were many leaflets blowing around in the wind. Eddie picked one up so he could study it. The king who had never been crowned had been there to visit the soldiers, the men who could have been his subjects had he fallen in love with a woman who had been acceptable to the monarchy. The paper said, “We visited here”. The date had been some months before and was signed by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

Many of the veterans, like Eddie, were being asked to sign on again after their discharge, but most of them were weary of war. Civilians at heart, they could not wait to get back to their homes and families.

The men were marched onto the Parade ground one morning, but Eddie had refused to take the ribbons.The sergeant who was inspecting them said he was improperly dressed without them, so Eddie had to fall out and borrow the store man’s set of ribbons, before he passed inspection.

He had been very put out about the campaign medals. No distinction had been made between the soldiers who had taken part in the Normandy landings and who were in the bitter fighting in the months to come. The same medals were issued to the men and women who came after in the noncombatant roles and miles behind the battles that were being fought. He meant no disrespect to them, as all had played their part in winning the war.

The Major presented him with a copy of the regiment’s history book, pointing out Eddie’s own name within it, for bringing in the wounded at one time.

“Take your leave and rejoin,” he urged. “There will be nothing for you in Civvy Street yet, it will be years before Britain gets going again.” Eddie didn’t commit himself, although it would be with great regret that he would leave the seasoned warrior behind.

Eddie took the book and read it through carefully, finding it very accurate on the battles that were fought, but he also thought that a good thing would be for a common soldier to tell the story, mentioning things that wouldn’t be shown in army records.

Eddie was demobilised in the Autumn of 1946, he felt that the twelve months he had spent in the Middle East seemed more like twelve years. At first it had been a novelty as it was so different from his lifestyle back home, but now he was tired of Egypt and Palestine.

The demobilisation took place in an orderly fashion, the men who had been called up before Eddie went first. At last his number came up and he was free.

The journey home was not a comfortable one. They travelled on an old ship, which had seen better days. Eddie learned how to play Crown and Anchor with the sailors and spent his nights on deck in a hammock, as the weather was humid and the Mediterranean was placid as they sailed.

They were landed at a French port and travelled over the Channel where they were sent to a centre for demob’. Here Eddie had to part with his precious Luger, a good friend and companion he’d had for many months. He was given a suit, a striped suit that became very fashionable as army men poured back into Civvy Street, and a share of his gratuity money which amounted to sixty quid.

So that is the way Eddie ended his war, with a striped suit that he wouldn’t be seen dead in, £60 and a suntan!

EPILOGUE

Eddie didn’t go home to a land fit for heroes. There was still rationing, still mass unemployment, a huge amount of money owed to the U.S.A., soldiers returning to broken homes and children who had grown up in their absence and resenting the appearance of an unfamiliar father telling them what to do. Once the celebrations were over, the population again began to wonder what this war had cost them. Hadn’t they fought a war to end all wars in the Great War? So Hitler had been defeated, but it had been at the expense of the lives of the country’s younger generation, who should have been there to make Britain great again.

Eddie, affected by the sounds of battle, the night sweats, horrific dreams that woke the family with his shouting, managed to find work on a local housing estate that was being built for those that had lost their houses in the air raids, but it was heavy going for the once fit man. The M.O. presiding over the demob’ medical had pronounced Eddie fit to resume his life in Civvy Street, ignoring the heart that was stressed and weakened, as it didn’t really matter much to him.

As the years went by, with a wife and a growing family, Eddie struggled to make ends meet. His dreams of a big house in the country, private education for his children, holidays and a luxury car to ride around in, were shattered. He was reduced to fixing creaky gates, broken walls, replacing rickety fences, as his health broke down and he was unable to hold down a full time job. He was in and out of hospital until he passed away at seventy-one.

And his thanks for joining others in the fight for freedom? A poxy government retirement pension, which, upon his death, they found he’d been given an overpayment and snatched back the small amount from his grieving widow.

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