(To view more pictures, click on underlined words)
Dad
was a medic/ambulance driver at
Grafton Underwood and he would
sometimes talk about instances
that happened during WWII. He
was a country boy and the first time he was ever away from home was when he served in the War. He never left home again once he got back in 1945.
This photo of the group in front of the B-17 used to hang in our living room for years and years. The only one I could identify was my Dad, who is at the top of the pyramid, right under the plane’s nose. He was late for the sitting so they stuck him up in back. If anyone can identify the others, please let us know.
As to the photo with the one other soldier in it --the taller man on the right--we don’t know who he is. Maybe someone can help with that, too.
Then there is the photo of my Dad with the Border collie. Some may not remember the names of the men, but they might remember the dog! Dad is standing in front of the dispensary. There is a bike parked there also; Dad said they used bikes to get around and that most were held together with baling wire and duct tape.
One story about these photos: My older sister was born in February 1943. Dad sent these photos home, so she thought any man in a uniform was her daddy. Apparently she embarrassed my mom a few times with this, calling a stranger in uniform "Daddy." She was nearly 3 years old, walking and talking, before Dad returned home and saw her for the first time. I'm sure this happened in many families during WWII. I was born in November 1946, a post-war boomer. I hope someone can add some missing pieces to the photos and stories.
"Bobby" Barth with daughters, Barbara and Beverly
Christmas 1998
Dad talked about the weather in England (always damp and chilly, everything smelled musty), the food at the mess hall (they often had French toast, or fried bread as he called it), the coffee, (it tasted like iodine), the English customs and slang, and the pub (“The Old Friar" in Twywell) where he and his buddies used to hang out. He liked to listen to the piano; and his favorite song was "Paper Moon."
Dad met the Dicks family (Reg, Dora, and their son Roger) while stationed at Grafton Underwood. Reg was apparently one of the citizen air-wardens, or whatever they called the locals who did work at the air base. Dad and friends would often "crash" at the Dicks house, sleep on the floor, then go to the pub for fun. Dora said she'd often come downstairs in the morning and find American airmen sleeping on her floor. They'd climb in through the window! The Dicks family lived in Irthlingborough. A second son, John, was born in 1945. We still keep in touch with the Dicks. Their sons have grown children now; Reg died of a heart attack in mid-1970's, but Dora still lives near G-U.
Dad did mention once that a plane loaded with bombs crashed on take-off at the runway; no survivors. They gave the medics rubber gloves and a lot of them didn't eat or sleep for a couple days. They'd also watch for returning planes and count the ones returning. He said the service groups didn't hang out with the flyers much because the friend you share a drink with at night might be in the body bag you load the next day. I think he kept the really awful stories to himself to keep from upsetting his kids. I had a phobia about war and nightmares sometimes after looking at “Life Goes to War." That was a big picture book published by Life Magazine, loaded with gory pictures.
Other memories I can recall Dad mentioning: He once saw Dinah Shore singing at a USO program. Actor Jimmy Stewart was also in the 8th AAF and came through Grafton Underwood at one time, but I don't think Dad saw him.
Dad died of cancer in 1990. He is remembered as a World War II veteran who served his country well as a medic and ambulance driver at Grafton Underwood; as a carpenter, a loving father and grandfather.
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