Europe's liberation, in dates and song.

Started with the landings in Sicily on 10 July, 1943. Or if you want to be pedantic about mainland Europe, 3 September 1943 at Reggio in Calabria, southern Italy. My father took part in both. And after D-Day, when Lady Nancy Astor castigated the Allied forces in Italy, who'd been sent by Churchill with the understatement of the war in that they were going to attack 'the soft underbelly of the Axis crocodile', saying they should be sent to the real war in Normandy, revelled ever more in the self-deprecating soubriquet of the D-Day Dodgers. It was a long and bloody campaign; doesn't detract from the bravery and sacrifices of D-Day and the long push east to Germany, but Normandy 1944 wasn't the first step in Europe's liberation.

A salute from the past

Taken in August 1942, the photograph shows my Dad (left, front row, with the gravity-defying forage cap) and his fellow Sappers just after passing out at Weston-on-Trent Camp near Derby. I've seen this photo many times, but last week I noticed something that I'd previously missed. Nearly all the men have followed the instruction to give a thumbs up - in Dad's case he's gone for both thumbs. Compare this image of joyful soldiery to the man at the opposite end of the front row, who's giving a full-on, reverse-Churchill, two-fingered Roman salute (and seems to be wearing slippers without socks!) The 'Roman' connection is striking, because many of this group ended up in Italy - Dad included - and landed either at Reggio or Salerno. Don't know the guy's name or anything about his subsequent military career but for a full-on reposte to the staged mateyness of the photo his 'two fingers to the lot of you' takes some beating.

Curtains for Churchill

My three-and-a-half year old self was recovering from measles on the day of Churchill's funeral and I spent the day on the settee alternately lying under a blanket and playing with the bow and arrow set my grandparents had given me as a 'get well' gift - the furniture bore the circles from direct arrow hits for weeks afterwards. The day was also special because I remember being cared for by grandma and granddad. At some point as the ceremony unfolded on TV, my granddad decided to close the living room curtains as a mark of respect. They did things like that in those days, or, more particularly, my granddad did. He'd spent his formative years 'in service' as a footman, and this had left a rather confusing legacy: he distrusted the toffs, but had an instinctive sense of place. While he got on well with my Labour-voting dad, his son-in-law never forgot that granddad was a member of that confusing breed - a working class Tory. I can't remember now how dad found out about the curtains, it might be that I mentioned it in all innocence when he got home from work, but however he got to know, the response was surprising and has gone down in family legend. Dad was mild-mannered and jovial, but he let us know he wasn't happy about the respect accorded to Churchill by his own drapery. Dad fought in North Africa and Italy during WWI, and while he recognised that Churchill had been a great war-time leader, he also knew he had made mistakes and swapped parties, apparently to gain political advantage. Churchill's ratting and re-ratting, which saw him transfer allegiance from Tory to Liberal and back to Tory was evidence, in dad's opinion, of an untrustworthy side to his character. This was further compounded for dad as - along with many other Eighth Army veterans - he felt that Churchill had reneged on a promise that they would be brought home after the victory in North Africa. Instead, they were sent to Italy - where, in Churchill's words they would have the easy job of destroying 'the soft underbelly of the Axis crocodile'. This turned out to be far from the truth and the First, Fifth and Eighth Armies spent three years, often poorly fed and ill-equipped, fighting against determined German resistance as they advanced the full length of Italy's elongated boot. After D-Day, dad and his comrades in arms also had to endure the put-down that they were 'D-Day Dodgers', who should be fighting in Normandy, instead of 'sunning' themselves in Italy. In typical squaddie fashion, the term of derision was turned into a badge of honour and became an anthem to the largely forgotten suffering they endured in the Italian campaign. We played the song at dad's funeral, and when the TV footage shows the London docks lowering their jibs in homage and the crowds lining the route to mark the 50th anniversary of Churchill's funeral, I think I'll play it again, because the man who led the nation to victory had his flaws and failings too.

When Dad and Uncle Harry Couldn’t get a Pint

Dad and his best mate Harry, home on leave from Italy. A Joiner and a Caretaker turned Sapper and Fusilier sergeant 'for the duration' went into Leeds for the night. Two lads from Burley walking down the Headrow and into Vicar Lane called in the Robin Hood for a quick one. That’s how the story starts. Start of a home town night out. Harry was a big man, a sergeant in battledress, he goes over to the bar. Dad’s the smaller one of the two. It’s Harry’s shout, and shout he does. The barman goes red in the face as the drinkers at the bar part. “And I’m telling you I can’t serve you in here. Leeds is closed to the British. We can only serve Yanks and Poles in here”. Now Harry liked the Poles, fought with them at Monte Casino, though neither he nor Dad really got the Yanks. Too much money, too many cigs, too many girls. Dad never forgot three days’ blinded from the flash of one of their anti-aircraft guns defending the harbour at Bari, always grumbled how “you’d think they’d won the bloody war” at war films on TV. But denial of beer in the Robin Hood was an indignity of war they remembered and passed on; for them it was a war story in their very own backyard. If they’d hailed from Białystok or the Bronx, instead of Burley, then that genial mine host would have pulled their pints, but there was to be no beer in the Robin Hood for those two squaddies that night. D-Day Dodgers http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4hny_XRaw4 By the same author: Short and Curlies Gnosis