Forbidden bits of history ……….

Now even for writers there are the places we choose not to go and it is of those forbidden bits of history that have exercised my mind to day, sparked in part by a reflective piece on another blog.

Uncle Roger and mum, circa 1939

The other piece is from my old friend Lois Elsden who was musing on what triggers her writing.*

I have always classed myself as a jobbing historian, and so I will write about what ever takes my fancy along with requests.

And often the stories arise out of a document, photograph, or an event someone has shared or will bubble up from a research project.

And in return for looking into the history of a house or a lost relative l get to write the story.

So, we all win. They get a bit of their past uncovered and l end up with a piece for the blog.

Over the last thirteen years I have written about coins on Reynard Road, a picture of a dad on Stockton or the sad account of an RAF bomber crew buried in a wartime Dutch grave.

It all works well and to steal that old catchphrase the blog is “open all hours”.

But there are yawning gaps with subjects l can't go near.

Capture, POW record, 1942

They are usually linked to family. 

And the most obstinate one is my uncle who died in a Japanese POW camp in 1943. 

His early life in Cologne and Derby presents no problems nor his time in the RAF up to his capture. 

We have a wonderful 26 handwritten account of his journey from outside Manchester during the Christmas Blitz to a journey by sea to South Africa, through the Suez Canal and on to Greece where he escaped just before its fall to the Axis powers. 

The letter finishes in Basra and is supported by a series of photographs he took.

All of which is fine, but his period of captivity is a stumbling block. I have newspaper account of his “missing in action” the confirmation of his incarceration and  the stark official news of his death.

Added to which we have the replies to letters grandmother wrote to anyone who she thought might have known him in the camp.

News of his death, 1945

It is harrowing story which l can never do justice to. But nor can l summon up the will to read or write about the Japanese war.  

It extends to avoiding the classic films from David Lean's account of the men forced to build a bridge to the umpteen Hollywood accounts.

All of which means while I know the details of the European war I never go near the war in the East.

And when confronted with another family tragedy which befell the brother of my great grandmother l just blanked it.

I suspect it is a bit of wanting to avoid the unpleasant coupled with an acute sense that to do so places me as a bit of a voyeuristic tourist picking up a deep family tragedy.

And it was, for neither mother nor grandmother ever talked of the events, other than to call down insults on Winston Churchill who they believed knew from intelligence that the ships carrying the RAF personnel were heading directly into Japanese occupied territory.

So forbidden history.

Pictures; photographs and other documents of Roger Hall, 1940-45 from the collection of Andrew Simpson and the POW record from findmypast.co.uk

*What triggers my writing, https://loiselsden.com/2024/02/07/what-triggers-my-writing/