My story

Part One

 
  I hope that when you read it that you will find it as my father wanted, his own story. It has taken me over 30 plus years to write.

To give you a little background, at the age of 21 I was involved in a car crash. I did not have any serious injuries, but I hit my head on the door pillar and sustained what then doctors said was post concussion amnesia. I went for treatment to a specialist and eventually to my own doctor.

While I was recovering father took ill, he was taken to hospital where he was given six pints of saline. He had dehydrated, they could not find a reason for it, but a month later he was sent to Queen Mary’s hospital to a ward especially for POWs. He was there for six weeks undergoing tests.

Father did not say much but he seemed ok. I went to see my doctor after he came home, and it was while he was talking he gave me a file, it was green A4 sized and contained a report.

I read through some of it, its was all in medical jargon.  My doctor turned to me and said, “if your father could talk about it, ease the burden from his mind perhaps he will live a little longer” this frightened me I thought any minute now he would die.

  I went home and burst through the door and asked rather foolishly “dad what happened to you in the war” all I got was a very angry “Nothing” my mother said “he will not talk about it , they never do”

I stopped wondering as father seemed to be ok. But as the years passed I still wanted to know, so in order that I may find out more I started to trace my family tree, it was a good way of asking that family if they knew anything. But of course he had not said anything to them.

The next event that awakened my curiosity was when my youngest sister fell ill some fifteen years later, she was diagnosed with having Neuro Fibroma.

As time progressed she became more and more ill. She was rushed into Walton hospital Liverpool where they operated, the operation was not successful. She was later placed on a life support machine. It was while we were visiting her in Liverpool I asked father again what happened, he looked at me but said nothing.

But I later found out from mother that he started to write it all down.  Mother said he got frustrated because he has so much to say, and writing it down was to slow.  So she got him a tape recorder, and he started to talk. He used some of Gillians old tapes and gave them to me, I still have them

 
 
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