My
grandmother was a great woman. Born, Lillian Groombridge in Ramsgate,
England in the winter of 1906. The onset of the Great War in the not so
distant future was not felt yet. She was the youngest of 6 children to
her mother Martha and father Thomas. Her father Thomas Groombridge
worked hard in the shipyard in the Ramsgate Harbour. At that time,
Ramsgate was a small but beautiful town with a good port, located
downtown. Above the marina, there was a chandelery, a sail loft,
several marine shops and the Royal Temple Yacht club.
Lillian
loved to swim in the harbour, she told me. I knew she must have many
stories to tell about World War I, and before she passed on, I was able
to document everything into a story about her life. I can't share it
all with you now, but in honour of Remembrance Day, I will share with
you some of her memories leading up to Armistice 1918.
Lillian
was 8 years old when she recalls a family friend coming over to have
breakfast with her father. She never understood at the time what
conversation had transpired but the year was 1914, and Oscar had
with him a newspaper that brought some bad news to her otherwise jovial
father. It was the first time her father had asked her to leave the
table before she was finished eating. (The Daily Mail and the Times report the assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand..)
My
grandmother had told me that within weeks there were so many changes in
all of their lives, and those changes would only get worse over the
next several years.
Within
weeks of the assassination, Austrian authorities arrest and interrogate
three members of the 'Black Hand' in Sarajevo. It was discovered that
three members of Serbia were behind the whole plot to have Franz
Ferdinand killed. Germany announces full support with Austro-Hungary if
they wish to take reprisals against Serbia. But Austro-Hungary decide
that they will take it one step further, and made 15 demands on the
Serbian Government to which Serbia refused saying it would be against
their Constitution, and criminal in law. So Serbia reaches out for
Russia for help and Russia agreed. Austro-Hungary declared war on
Serbia. Russia mobilizes its forces supporting Serbia, and Germany then
declared war on Russia. This is how it all began...
My grandmother recalls: (taken from the excerpts of my book,"Lillian")
(The
sunshine reflected on the corner of the kitchen cabinet, bouncing light
onto the small table from where Martha and Thomas were in a somber
discussion. The year is 1917 and the war escalates worldwide)
THOMAS
"This
is serious, Martha. Very very bad. The children will be told –
tonight when I come home from work. And no swimming, period! They
aren’t allowed to cross the fence by the beach. Lillian’s been asking
me lately, to come down to the Harbour and I can't allow that, you
know. It isn’t even safe there any more. We’ve been given instruction
in case of an air raid. Well, I’ve got to go."(raises from the chair
and kisses her head)
MARTHA
"I
don't see how the war between Germany and Russia will affect us here! I
can't understand all of this. I am sure that England won’t get
involved. Surely this won’t affect us here"
THOMAS (buttoning his work shirt)
The
Germans declared war on France, and Sir Grey, Britain's foreign
secretary, warned Germany that Britain would go to war if Belgium is
invaded...
---
She
told me she was only 6 years old, when one of her teachers had taught
her how to swim. From that day on, she remembers swimming each and
every day, during windstorms and even rainfalls. But the rusted out
'Danger' sign and the barbed fence had kept her away but sometimes she
defied the rules and went into the waters anyways but not without
punishment. On this very warm day in July of 1917, when Lilly was 11
she had set out to the beach without telling anyone. Her father's
pleasant countenance had long been gone replacing it with a bitter and
scowling man. As she left the house, her father had yelled for her to
once more to stay off the beach. Then it happened:
Suddenly it came..that crushing, horrifying sound of the air raid siren blasted throughout the house
These
are the times when a mother cannot dare speak to her children. When
she cannot show her real self. When she needs to be stronger than she
is. For to give yourself truly to them would frighten them, perhaps
even more than her own fear. War is something that Martha was
unprepared for. Something all of us are never prepared for. The
uncertainty of what she felt, wanting to lock herself and her family in a
world of protective love, never to let them out of her sight, until
peace upon the earth once again.
(Martha
insipidly holding a tea towel looking out the window) The children all
huddle in the center of the parlor room, looking to her for
answers)when suddenly she realized Lillian was missing..
She
was in the water of the Ramsgate Harbor when the overhead planes had
flown. The air raid sirens could be heard in the distance and grew
louder and louder as she came up from under the waters depth. She saw
streams of bullets land across the water making a sound like,
"pa-choo-choo" that she recalls. She saw men land to their knees and
fall forward and others screaming in pain holding wounds. Shocked and
afraid, she lowered herself under the water and wished it all away,
swimming quietly away..
For
months to follow, Lillian and her family were sensitive to every crack,
sound and siren and took cover and shelter at school, on the streets
and at home. In the end, everyone in her family was spared, but she had
already lost friends, neighbours and teachers at such a young age.
Final piece taken from my book, "Lillian"
- ACT III – Scene I
Fall/Winter – 1918 - Armistice
Armistice
was called on the German government for a cease-fire on 4th October,
1918. After talks had taken place, the Armistice was signed at Compiegne
in France, on 11th November, 1918. Once signed, it was agreed that
there would be a Peace Conference that would be held in Paris to discuss
the post-war world. From January 12, 1919 to January 20, 1920, leaders
representing 75% of the worlds population attended meetings in various
locations in and around Paris. Life was finally becoming whole again.
It was up to all of them to pick up the pieces now. The war was finally over.
As
for my grandmother? She went on to live through two world wars. She
raised 5 children of her own and died at a young age of 94. There are a
great many stories about the Great War that we will hear that will be
told. Its up to us to listen and pass them on and on this day to say We
remember.
Good night grandma, where ever you are, I remember.
More stories to share
A
long time ago when I was about 12, I recall my parents had made a
decision to start their own business. Looking back now, I realize of
course just how young they actually were. My father was a skilled carpet
layer who was taught the trade by his father before him, who had made a
fortune on it in the 40's. But that's another tale.
The
business started off well-enough I suppose. I hardly saw them
anymore... especially my father who was constantly working. Eventually
the business grew from a room in an apartment to a 'CostCo-sized'
warehouse where bales and bales of carpeting arrived daily. Soon my dad
hired men to help him, but these so called 'helpers' just took advantage
of their hourly wages by sitting around wasting time instead of being
paid by the job. This was their first mistake.
Others
included hiring family to 'do the books' which proved catastrophic when
they were audited. So while my poor father was working to the bone,
coming in late and tired with crippled knees and calloused hands, there
was trouble brewing in the front office. Then it happened, a call came
late one night from the police, who had said the warehouse was broken
into and most of the carpeting for the next week's jobs were gone. They
never did figure out who it was.
Then
there came a knock on the door and a large, burly man asked me for the
keys for my mother's car. He didn't take no for an answer, and despite
my best efforts within 5 minutes my mom's car was gone. Eventually they
lost their business.
I never actually saw my father cry, but I heard him one night. It was the worst sound I ever heard...
The
picture I took of the cable fence, which I call, 'lockout' is symbolic
(this would come to be my favorite of all the shots taken here). I
slowly moved my way in setting up my tripod, and my bracketing settings
on the camera. This I knew would be crucial for the HDR settings I had
already decided to use on this collection of shots. One by one, I saw
the gloom, and the ruins of broken dreams. From the broken windows and
empty cash registers to the doorways swung open letting out the ghosts
of dreams gone by.
Such
beautiful things here, even in the chaotic ruins, I could imagine
seeing the sun shining down on kept lawns, adorned with potted plants
and immaculate greenhouses filled with flora of every imaginable color.
As
I made my way around the back of one of the sheds, I saw a broken
shed-like dwelling. The wild flowers over-powered the front lawn and
the bike that lay on its side brought memories back of when I was a
child. You know when businesses fail, it isn't just about the money.
It affects everyone in the family. It can leave an impact on the kids
too. Everyone loses.
