May the Journey to your next adventure be as joy filled as your time with us. See you soon Dad XXX
Since Granddad Jack died on Tuesday 07/11/2006, I have been lucky enough to spend time with his daughter Gillian, and listen to many stories of her childhood and life with John James Newman Palmer.
Although I am neither a relative or close friend, not a work mate nor a wartime comrade,
I was fortunate enough to become acquainted with Granddad Jack in the last year of his life.
Having already been welcomed into the extended Palmer family through his daughter Gillian, I was accepted the same by Jack.
He spent his last months at Gillian's home in Blackpool where she cared for him, and where I was privileged to spend many hours in his company. He guided me through his childhood, his wartime escapades, and his family tales and beyond.
I listened in awe as he sailed me across the channel and around the Cape of Good Hope on the way to Africa. How when he first encountered active service in Egypt, “none of the lads had a bloody clue what was happening! Bombs and shells flying at a bunch of kids!” He described in vivid detail the story of where and how he was shot, and his recovery and recuperation in hospitals in Sardinia and Italy.
Not once during these conversations did Jack express any self-pity or sadness about his experiences during the war. On the contrary, he spoke with laughter, with a glint in his eye and a roguish sense of fun! To me, Jack certainly never seemed to think he was “special” to have seen active service all over the world. He was just one of many, proud to fight for their country and face the consequences, but lucky enough to come home.
Jack took me on a world tour of his many postings in the Army. From Bournemouth to Africa, across Europe, to Cyprus and the Middle East, to Northern Ireland and back home to Bulford. Along the way he shared with me many stories of his own family. He spoke fondly of his Mother and brother Tom, and his relationship with his sisters. He spoke with great pride of his sons Michael and Gavin and told many stories of their childhood (the parts he saw, and the parts he missed) and his pride in their Army careers and beyond. Of Gillian, he gave the highest compliment a father can give a daughter, “she's a pearl. A diamond. Just like her Mother.” It still seemed painful for him to talk about his beloved wife.
He talked often of his grandchildren, all of who were affectionately nicknamed in true Army style! (Even I was fortunate enough to have earned the title “The Black Widow!)
It was so clear to me that Jack dearly loved his family, and missed and grieved for his late wife constantly. I sometimes wondered if his family and friends realised how dear they were to him, and if he ever told them? It was a privilege for me to hear it from Jack.
He was a man from a different generation, not the nurturing, sentimental communicative generation like ours. He was a man who lost his own father when he 10 years old. Who went to war as a 19-year-old boy, and returned not only a man - but also to be a husband and father. How had his experiences so far equipped him in his new role? I looked back at my own grandparent's experiences, they also came from a generation who married for love, stayed together for life, made the very best of what they had and worked hard for their children's future. Perhaps that's also true of Granddad Jack.
If so, then he must certainly be proud of the legacy he has left behind in the form of his children.
It must be every parent's wish to know that as their journey is coming to an end, they leave happy and healthy grandchildren who are just starting out on theirs. To know that their children are safe and settled with their spouses and that the future holds no fears for them.
Undoubtedly Jack knew that of his own children.
He knew his dog Boozy was safe with his friends Pop and Beryl and that his final wishes to be brought home to Bulford would be honoured. I hope he knew it was safe to leave.
Despite his years, Granddad Jack was a young man with a sharp wit and a sharper tongue! He was animated and so alive during our conversations. Thankfully I knew it was wise to hold my tongue during any televised sporting events! It was a privilege and an honour to spend just this small amount of time with him during his last months and I'll remember him love and laughter.
He may have eventually lost the battle with his health, but now returning to the home he loved, surrounded by his family and friends - he has surely won the war.
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