It’s strange what you learn about people after they are gone. His son, who I recently met for the first time in over 30 years, always thought his father had been born in Scotland ... when he actually had been born in London. During the ‘get together’ we reminisced over our youth, he talked about his life in New Zealand and about his father who Mike sadly lost when he was only 17 … and I filled him in on our Family history.
What I didn’t know was that, although he was a wonderful conscientious Doctor …adored by his patients …he never actually wanted to be one. His love was apparently music …cello like his father but his mother (Euphemia) said it was not a proper job …it was for pleasure. I found it strange because her late husband, Horace, had been a cellist and taught at home. Horace did have an inherited private income, which I suppose made a difference but maybe being forced to do something his heart was not in, is why Reg grew away from his mother after the war years …. along with her disapproval of his choice of wife ….well no one was really good enough for any of her children.
He had studied hard at St Andrews and the only exams he failed were his finals, which he had to retake after being banished to a tent in the garden in order to avoid any outside influences, which might distract him. After he passed it was not long before he had to go to war, serving on the Hospital ship ABA and finally his theatre of war was to be North Africa …..his final rank being Captain.
I found letters amongst Mums papers, that had been sent to my Nana and it could be seen that, as the war years progressed, there were more censored black lines than actual text … how I wish they had not become miss placed in the move up here.
He never let on how ill he had been during that time until much later and I remember that after his death in 1963, Auntie Pat found papers showing that he had been ‘mentioned in dispatches’. He was not one to brag … business like, yet caring, in his work … and always seemed to be the life and soul of any party or gathering. His smile was like that of a mischievous lad and his laugh was so infectious … the latter often heightened by ‘a wee dram’..
12 comments:
We have your Yelland family history on our website:
www.yelland.info
Please contact us via that website.
Thanks,
Stu & Liz
I enjoyed reading about your Uncle Reginald. The lives of "ordinary" people are always a fascination. I hope that he was able to find time to play the cello in his busy life as a doctor.
Fantastic FH as per norm. i love reading about your family. I do hope you are planning a book of all these stories to pass on to your grandchildren :)
I agree, a book definitely should be compiled. This is so fascintaing Angie. I've missed your FH pages.
You amaze me with your enthusiasm for Family History Angie. I wish I had half as much as you. I have gone back to 1764 - with help from friends but only have photos of my grandmother. I LOVE to see your layouts and read the stories. Isn't it fascinating reading about our ancestor's lives? TFS. ~Glen~
i have family photos but they are really nothing without the wonderful stories that go with them like you have...another wonderful LO :)
A great story Angie, I don't think our relatives really talked much of the war and their part in it. My husbands Grandfather was an amazing character who died before I met my husband to be. But he ran away from home, under age, and joined up with WWI, volunteered at 18 in 1917 for the newly formed Machine Gun Corps, nicknamed The Suicide Club by other Army personnel. Thankfully he survived, and after the war went to work for Elder Dempster shipping line out of Liverpool, eventually making captain. During WWII he captained merchant ships delivering life saving supplies and so came under attack from German submarines more than once. Once, 140 miles off the coast of West Africa they were torpedoed and sunk by a sub. They only lost one man, the others were in two lifeboats that he took charge of and rowed/sailed 140 miles to safety, despite the searing heat, storms, bitter night time cold, delirious crew and shark attacks! He never saw himself as a hero. But in my mind, he was just that.
Brenda
the older I get the more I find so many folks have wonderful stories to tell and wonderful lives to share and your uncle surly was one of those, great story.
Well done you!! I have loads of old photoes too - but not the time yet to get anything done with them. Have promised myself I will not leave my DD with a box of "who's that?? photoes". Thanks for reminding me of that promise
=0)
And thanks for visiting my blog again. Happy Easter up there in bonnie Scotland !
I read this a week ago and didn't have time to comment, so just came back to view it again.
I share your love of family stories, but don't know how to do the beautiful layouts which you create with photos and words. I enjoy reading on your other blog and seeing what you have made, but have to confess that the crafting terms are not familiar. Probably like quilting [or any other creative endeavor] there are tools of the trade and a sort of insiders' jargon.
Family research is so absorbing--as well as frustrating when information remains elusive, but so rewarding when some of the pieces come together.
your love of scrapping shows in your blog. I particularly like this page.
Love your artwork and the stories. I am a genealogist myself and have shedloads of photos waiting to be scrapbooked. I need time.
Carol
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