The Veteran Issue 5

John Pratt
Alicante Branch
Chairman
'I didn't have a clue'
B
rought up a while after WW11, as was usual dad never spoke of it, the
horrors, where he served, what he saw and was required to do. He was
a ‘red beret’ paratrooper.
Years later we found a diary he had kept; it only detailed his promotion(s) / demotion(s), usually due
to drink, and showing his dates at home.
I didn’t really have a clue.
Mum and dad worked hard in hard times to give us what they could, we had little, Nan basically
brought us four up while mum/dad worked.
But I didn’t really have a clue.
My memories of those times of helping dad in the garden with the veg patch and mowing the lawn,
(and sticking a bayonet through my leg), taking handfuls of gooseberries from the garden to eat on
the way to school. Short trousers in all weathers, new cardboard in my shoes for school every Sunday
evening. The few caravan holidays just outside Margate.
But I didn’t really have a clue.
I was lucky on leaving school I knew what I wanted to do. I only ever wanted to be ‘a boy in blue’ and
had that image in my mind. The reality (as usual) was different.
I didn’t really have a clue.
I got my dream job and the girl to go with it, married, (seemed like a good idea at the time), children,
but, as above, the reality was very different, shift work, working week-ends, Christmas, missing
school performances and anniversaries.
I didn’t really have a clue.
Wow, what an eye opener as to what went on in the real world at that time. Blimey, cars were for
Senior Ranks, the boxes to make a ‘point’ were the only refuge, no radios or computers, you went to a
job and relied on training, ‘your nose’ and good luck to keep you safe (and of course sometimes that
didn’t work).
I didn’t really have a clue.
Fairly oblivious to what went on outside my world, no doubt I became cynical, perhaps inevitable
when your world is dominated by the bad in this world.
I didn’t really have a clue.
I wore my poppy and made my donation like the good citizen I thought I was, but never really
thought deeper about it, it was just something you did. Back in the day we stopped our patrol car and
removed our hats in respect of those who had probably ‘served’, and given their all, although,
I didn’t really have a clue.
My family grew up, Northern Ireland, then Iraq and Afghanistan happened, one of them did their bit
and PTSD was prevalent, we helped but even in my own home.
I didn’t really have a clue.
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