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Evaders
May 13 2012
My apologies that I'm falling behind in my correspondence, and will
endeavor to do better!
After Charley and I left Portsmouth, we drove to the 19th century
charming
south coast resort town of Bournemouth, where we based ourselves for
four
days.
During that time, Charley hosted dinner for his southernmost brother
Sherwood Rangers and their families at our Fin-de-Siecle,
family-owned hotel
(red wallpaper, white linen tablecloths, and scarlet velvet
upholstered
chairs). It was apparent that Charley had been taken on not only as
honorary
member by the Sherwoods in attendance, but has been embraced as a
member of
the family. As the Old Bold Pilots in Oceanside have also
demonstrated in
word and deed, here was another example of WW2 combat veterans and
former
adversaries forming bonds of the deepest sort of friendship.
On Sunday, we visited the grave of Charley's closest Sherwood
brother, Ken
Ewing, who had fought against the Afrika Korps in Tunisia, and who
had
welcomed Charley to the Sherwood Rangers Regiment family so warmly
twenty
years ago. Ken is keenly missed by his family and friends since his
passing
two years ago. At his grave, Ken's children regaled us with stories
about
his misadventures until the tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so
sorry I
had never gotten the chance to meet such a brave and courageous
soldier, and
funny and warm-hearted father, grandfather, and friend.
After Ken we visited and interviewed Bert, who had been one of the
few lucky
"swimming tank" crew members to successfully land at Gold Beach (and
not at
the bottom of the Atlantic) during D-Day. Bert had fought through
Africa
with the Sherwoods before being part of the Sherwood charge across
Europe in
1944, when he was wounded and lost most of his eyesight. His
injuries did
not stop him from becoming a professional classical musician in
London after
the war.
Monday was our first day of rest in weeks, and sorely needed, as the
schedule had been testing both Charley's and my endurance, although
he never
let it show.
Tuesday we toured the exhibit halls and back sheds of the Bovington
Tank
Museum with the curator and chief archivist, marvelling at their
wonderful
collection of tracked vehicles, a good portion of which still run.
Their
collection of WWI tanks is truly formidable, and some of them have
been only
recently put out of action by increasing metal fatigue and wear
caused by
moving their massive weight under their own power nearly 100 years
after
they were originally in combat.
Of course we visited the Panzer III's and IV, the tanks used by
Afrika
Korps, but also saw a DD Sherman swimming tank with original canvas
screen,
two King Tigers, and the formidable Jagdtiger, of which only about
100 were
made at the end of the war. George and I had met the 96-year-old
former
commander of one of these massive beasts at the tank reunion in
Germany in
2010, but he passed away before we could properly interview him.
That loss
of his story still pains me today.
Wednesday Charley and I stopped at the Royal Navy submarine museum
on our
way back to London. Charley admires the courage of submariners, as
we all
should, and I was game for adventure. After touring the museum and
looking
through the real periscopes out into Portsmouth Harbor, we climbed
in and
around two real British subs, one of them built around 1900.
Charley is indefatiguable, and I do hope that I manage half as much
as he
does at age 88. But alas, Thursday he flew home to Germany while I
flew on
to the Air Forces Escape and Evasion reunion in Albuquerque.
Here I have met incredible American airmen downed behind enemy lines
in
Europe who successfully escaped capture by the Germans, and some of
the
French, Dutch, and Belgians who helped them. In one of those
fortuitous
chance encounters I met a B-24 pilot shot down on the same bombing
run as
Bob Sweatt. Ed Miller was in the 93rd Bomb Group, and had a
harrowing and
magnificent story of walking in full leather flight suit past German
soldiers multiple times in rural French villages and towns. Either
he was
one of the luckiest men alive, or hiding in plain sight really does
work, or
maybe it was a large dose of both in delightful, comic combination.
Ed met Bob at his first AFEES reunion decades ago simply by choosing
a
random empty seat - the one next to Bob. In conversation they found
they had
come down on the same run and had even been enjoying occupied Paris
at the
same time while waiting for the opportunity to return back to
England.
In the midst of talking to these fascinating men and women, and
sharing
notes with other researchers, the time here in Albuquerque has
passed all
too quickly. Today I fly home to San Diego, and Wednesday I can't
wait to
see my Old Bold friends.
Until then, with all my fondest greetings,
Heather <Begin
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