Ascension : News From The Grotto - Thought For The Week
Submitted by The Islander (Shari Parkhill) 18.09.2008 (Article Archived on 02.10.2008)

Again, on this island with a British military base, Battle of Britain Sunday has come around.

Battle of Britain Sunday

            Again, on this island with a British military base, Battle of Britain Sunday has come around.  It is a day of remembrance and of giving thanks, no matter how much time has gone by since the actual event.  I’ve used this article for several years on this occasion.  I thought that I would write something new this year, but when I read this story again, I realized that there was nothing I could write that addressed the occasion better so here it is again.  I think it is the most fitting tribute that I could find.

When I was considering what to talk about on this, Battle of Britain Sunday, I decided to call my stepmother, Vivien, and ask her if she had any memories of the Battle.  She grew up in Britain, and was in Navy Intelligence, although not until later in the war.  She met her first husband, a Canadian army officer, there, and returned to Canada with him after the war.  Many years later, after being a widow for a number of years, she married my father, also a veteran of the Second World War.  I thought her perspective on the Battle would mean more than anything I could say.  Although she doesn’t remember too much about the Battle of Britain itself, her entire existence was altered by the events of World War II.  More than a half-century later, her experiences are still fresh in her memory.  Here is her story.

            “My recollections about the Battle of Britain don’t amount to much, since it was fought primarily in the south of England, and I was living in the Midlands – my hometown was Birmingham.  Plus the fact that the battle took place in August and early September of 1940.  I was sixteen at the time (seventeen on Oct. 17) and my father died on September 11 of that year, right at the time of the battle of Britain.  I did not join the service (the navy) until January of 1943, when I was nineteen.

 The Battle of Britain usually refers to the dog-fights between the Spitfires against the Messerschmidts, both fighter planes, which the Spitfires (and the Hurricanes) won hands down.  But it was touch and go.  Goering called off the fight, fortunately for us, and concentrated on night-bombing of London and other large cities, including Birmingham.  Had the Germans continued with the earlier attack and concentrated on the airfields and putting the planes out of action, we would have been in dire straits. 

My father was a volunteer with the St. John Ambulance, and was called out many times at night to deal with the casualties of the bombing.  He became ill on the Monday (Sept. 9) and died on Wednesday the 11^th of a pulmonary embolism.  The doctor refused to come out the evening before because of the bombing, and when he arrived early on Wednesday morning he sent for an ambulance right away, and my father died at noon in the hospital.  I remember how vulnerable my mother and I felt.  Britain was (along with the British Empire) left alone to fight the war, and the Germans were only 20 miles away across the English Channel.  Many people were certain we were going to be invaded.  A large part of the Army had been lost at Dunkirk – we were sitting ducks.  Had it not been for the brave pilots of the RAF who fought the Battle of Britain I’m sure that the invasion would have taken place (successfully, I’m sure) and who knows how the world would have changed.  As Churchill said “Never in the course of history was so much owed by so many to so few”.

I remember the bombing quite clearly, which started at about the same time that the Battle of Britain was ending, and continued into the winter of 1941/42.  After that came the V1s and V2s – pilotless planes they called them.  They were very tense times, and lasted almost six years.  I do believe that the number of pilots who were killed was not revealed to the public at large, nor the immense danger that we were in.  It wasn’t until it was all over that we became aware of the close call and the toll of young men that it took. 

I remember reading and hearing on the radio of one Ace pilot – Paddy Finucane.  He was a New Zealander who shot down many, many enemy planes, but in the end was killed.  Everyone knew of him, he was a hero and a star.  But there were many, many more.  Certainly the world owes a tremendous debt of gratitude to these brave young men, most of whom were in their early twenties, some still in their teens.  If Hitler had succeeded in invading England (and don’t forget that most of Europe was in his hands at that time) I, for one, would not be here today.”

This is one person’s story.  For every person who lived through the Battle of Britain, for every RAF pilot who was a part of that great effort, for each of their children, grandchildren, and family member, there are many more stories.  For each of us, there is a debt of gratitude that can never be truly paid to these brave men.  Each year, we commemorate their sacrifice on this Sunday.  For them, and for all who served in the Second World War, let us never forget.