What my daddy did in the war
Published: Tue, 12/04/18
A couple of days ago I told you a story about my mother. Today, let me share something about my father. His name was Robert and he was born and raised in North London in the 1920s and 30s, which made him just the right age to be drafted into the second world war when he was 18 years old. So, we would ask the ‘what did you do in the war Daddy? The answer was; four weeks of basic training, during which he caught pneumonia and had to be hospitalised for some time to recover from it. Then, on the strength of having worked as a draftsman for a few months after leaving school, he was selected for the Royal Engineers. As I understand it, there was an intention to create an elite unit of combat engineers who would be highly qualified to solve the technical problems of warfare, especially when fighting the Japanese in the far east. So, in 1943 they sent my father to Battersea Technical college for a two year training in engineering. He
was paid by the army but able to live at home in Hornsey. My father never saw action as an elite combat engineer because, just as he finished the course the war ended and the army demobed him instead. Yes, war can be hell, or sometimes just a chance to get educated. So, although my father never fired a shot in anger he was ready for the challenges of post war peace.
In order to reconstruct the post war economy there was a big demand was for process engineers. Oil refineries and process plants of all kinds were being designed, built and operated to meet the growing demand for fuel and chemicals. More and more people owned cars and industry tried to meet the demand for consumer goods, fertilisers and so much else that was needed by a recovering economy. My father did another 2 years (as I recall) at college and graduated as a process engineer. He then found himself working on the development and construction of oil refineries in South Wales. Apparently it was an interesting time because new refining and chemical processes were being invented in laboratories all the time. Then my father and his colleagues would built a plant to use these processes on an industrial scale. Today a lot of these methods are taken for granted in the oil and chemical industries, but at the time, well lets just say
not everything went right first time.
My father told a lot of stories about that time and one of my favourites was about the tower that split. Apparently a very tall storage tank was needed for some fluid or other. The tank was constructed out of welded plates and seemed to be satisfactorily completed. Then came the time to test it by filling it with water. The water filled the tank right to the top and the inspectors were looking carefully for any sign of leaks. My father was watching from a distance and then apparently a weld split right at the top of the tank. The split continued straight down the side as if the container had been held together by a zip fastener and was now being rapidly unzipped. Then, a huge tidal wave of water spread across the site at great speed. My father was at a safe enough distance, and high enough from the ground, to just enjoy a grandstand view without being in personal danger. For those closer to the action a rapid response was
called for. Workers and management alike suddenly discovered the ability to run and leap like gazelles escaping a pride of lions. Others demonstrated a monkey like ability to climb any available structure and hung on until the water receded. Remarkably there was only one casualty. The incident happened during the afternoon and one man was sleeping off a liquid lunch out of sight in a ditch. When the water flooded his hiding place he was sadly drowned.
Whoever actually specified and supervised the construction of the tank must have had some explaining to do. At least the container was tested with water. Much better than having a thousand gallons of acid or petrol deluging a working site.
Like my mother, my father had no particular interest in martial arts although he was always supportive of my interest in the subject. My paternal grandfather was a teacher of ‘physical culture’ as they called it in the Edwardian period. Apparently he was also a handy boxer in his day and I know he taught my father the basics of boxing when he was young. What my father did teach me was that if you understand the principles of a subject then you can always figure out a way of solving problems relating to that subject. And, if you get it wrong, well try again until you do get it right. That was how they built the refining and chemical industry after the war and it is still my approach to life too. There is no better way of coping with real world problems than uncovering basic principles and then finding, or creating, a situation where you can figure it out for yourself.
On the 15th of December Alex and I will do our best to provide such an opportunity at the Principles of Self-defence seminar (still a couple of places left) or just follow my distance learning programme, details of both at http://www.beverleystav.uk/sd151218.html
regards
Graham
PS My father died in 2001 and we still miss him. But he did leave a lot of good stories, maybe I will share a few more of them in the future.