Scanning Old Photos Part 2

Preston My Mothers family. 

Norman [Father], John, Jane, Margaret Ann and [Mother] Sarah

Preston My Mothers family. 

Back row L to R: Margaret Ann, John, Sarah [Mother]

Front: Norman [Father], Jane

Annie Cresswell pre WW1

Annie Anslow (nee Cresswell) my Grandmother

Beatrice and Dennis Anslow

 Dennis and Beatrice Anslow

Dennis and Beatrice Anslow
Wedding Party in 1944

Young Denis Anslow

Denis, Beatrice and my mother Ann Anslow

Edward John Taylor
History Link

Unknown

A little History - A lady Holding a Rose

My Mum remembered when my maternal grandfather came home with his find from a second hand shop. He appreciated the painting but never knew of its significance or value. Today it is on loan to the Birmingham Museums Trust  https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/a-lady-holding-a-rose-33768

Memories and Observations

I look at today's problems and wonder if humanity is prepared or strong enough to handle what their parents, grandparents and great grandparents did in the past. Today we are used to a lot of creature comforts and haven't experienced real hardship. We are used to having what we want and not making do. Wars happen in far flung places and don't make regular headlines......

My parents clearly remembered WWII, Then they lived in the West Midlands in the UK, away from the German bombing of London and other key cities. Even so there were many incidents when lost German planes would drop their bombs in the countryside so they would have enough fuel to get home. 

My dad spoke of the bombs, shattered glass and the one occasion of a crashed German plane near home in Walsall Wood.

My Mother, in her later years, wrote about her childhood experiences in nearby Brownhills. here is an extract.

"Growing up during the war years I guess I didn’t realize the seriousness of it all for some families, living in a small coal mining village I didn’t have to go and live somewhere else as a lot of children of my age and be taken in as an evacuee and we used to joke and play around with our gasmasks not realizing what it would be like if we ever need to use it.

The nearest we got to being bombed was one night when we were under the stairs in the pantry with a chamber pot in case of emergencies when we heard an aircraft flying very low and then there was a big bang and all the glass in the windows in our row of houses in the street were shattered. A bomb had been dropped in the field at the back of the houses the only fatality was a horse that used to pull the ice-cream cart. All the children were very upset. After that the owner invested in a motorised van but it didn’t seem the same as the children all patted the horse and gave him a name.

We used to go into a cellar in some unused cottages near us until my mother fell and hurt her ankle carrying my baby sister. I remember one night I was knitting away when two American soldiers came down into the cellar and gave me some chewing gum it was the first chewing gum I had ever had and I thought that it was strange that you had to not swallow it after it started to taste awful. 

The nearest City to us to be bombed was Birmingham (edit: and also Coventry) you could hear the planes fly and making a path and see the sky light up from the fires. My dad was in the Home Guard as he was exempt from being called up so our family didn’t realize what it was like to have a father or husband that had gone to war. " 

Ann Anslow (Nee Preston).

Ann Preston's Identity Card

During the war and until 1954 there was rationing of food in the UK

An example of the ration books

This is a typical weekly food ration for an adult in 1942:

Bacon & Ham 4 oz (113.4 Grams)

Other meat  value of 1 shilling and 2 pence (equivalent to 2 chops)

Butter 2 oz (56.7 Grams)

Cheese 2 oz (56.7 Grams)

Margarine 4 oz (113.4 Grams)

Cooking fat 4 oz (113.4 Grams)

Milk 3 pints (1.42 Liters)

Sugar 8 oz (226.8 Grams)

Preserves 1 lb every 2 months (453.6 Grams)

Tea 2 oz (56.7 Grams)

Eggs 1 fresh egg (plus allowance of dried egg)

Sweets 12 oz every 4 weeks (340.2 Grams)

Families also would grow their own vegetables.

My mother was expected to look after her two siblings Jane and John as her mother was often unwell. (possibly clinically depressed) She cooked and cleaned along with attending school. With Mums dad, Norman being a butcher, meant a reasonable standard of living, but life still wasn't easy.

My Dad's father passed away when he was 6 years old and as a result life was even tougher for him and his older brother Dennis, living in Walsall Wood near the pit. His mother Annie, supplemented a meagre miners pension by taking in washing, ironing and was the midwife, common in a time where it was standard for childbirth to occur at home. Dennis worked to support the family.

My parents knew hardship was and I do wonder what they would think of today's world where people struggle to comply with some lockdown rules. 

We were supermarket shopping when I saw a man in his 20s having a meltdown because his favourite shampoo was unavailable! 

Goodbye Dad

 

Our family would like to thank you for being here today to say farewell to my dad, Thomas Cresswell Anslow, or as we all know him: Tom.

Whilst his passing was not unexpected with his illness over the last few weeks, it is still difficult to come to terms with losing a father and a grandfather.

As you know, my dad after much convincing and after a setback in August last year, moved with us to our new home in Largs. 

While resistant to change, once here dad, Heather and I were looking forward to spending more years together as a family. 

The time he spent with us were happy, filled with sport, music and watching the magpies.

This is quite a different lifestyle to the one dad was born into. 

Dad was born at home in 1929 in a two up two down terrace house in Walsall Wood, a small mining village in the Midlands. His mum Annie was the village midwife. It was a tough life with low income to barely make do after his father died of ‘black lung’ from mining, when Tom was six. Tom however thought it was one of the best times of his life.  It was a simple life with minimal school attendance and tagging along after his older brother Dennis, scrumping for apples from the ministers yard, football and roaming the village and surrounds. 

Speaking of football, Dad’s favourite team is Wolverhampton Wanderers so dad was thrilled last year when his team finally made it back into the First Division / Premier League and almost to the semi-finals, after so many years. He definitely made a point to see that game! 

Dad absolutely loved most sports, football, soccer, cricket and motor racing so he had his entertainment covered for the entire year. Whilst these were not always popular with mum, he did seem to find time for them. 

His love of sports however was completely overshadowed by his passion for classical music. He was introduced to classical music by my mum’s father Norman, whilst dad was waiting for my mum to get ready for their date. 

Well…..when I say introduced, it was more like “you are not leaving here until you listen to this…” type of introduction. Suffice it to say, the way to a future father-in-laws’ approval is paying attention to the music.

Not only did this courting lead to mum, it led to a life-long passion for classical music with Beethoven and Liszt being among dad’s favourite composers. The music selected today came from dad’s collection. 

I know it was dad’s great passion and he wanted to share his love for music with those around him. In fact, I can imagine him saying, “Do you really want to speak? Can’t we replace this with another piece of music?” 

My childhood memories are of a father who was devoted to his family. The centre of his life was my mother, Ann, to whom he was married for 62 years. During this time, we emigrated from the swinging 60’s in Lichfield England to late the 1940’s in Launceston Tasmania. 

It was a real culture shock for both mum and dad and is one of dad’s favourite recollections. The Tasmanian people had strange accents and strange ways such as the women wearing a hat, gloves and ball gowns to work functions. Dad was not one to conform or be dictated to.  Instead he encouraged mum to wear a provocative ankle-length dress slit down the side and stood up to those who would criticise. Whilst what mum wore is conservative by todays’ standards, it really was something shocking to those ladies wearing tiara’s and furs. 

There was a lot of pressure on dad at Repco when he first joined as the company culture was for the men to spend each afternoon at the pub instead of going home. There was no way my dad was going to leave his young family at home to adhere to peer pressure. 

In today’s world where only the common or popular opinion is believed to be the correct opinion, where differences are to be criticised and ridiculed, I prefer to look to dad’s example in not following the crowd. They are not always right as he repeatedly demonstrated throughout my life. 

The last 4 years since mum’s passing have been the hardest for dad. Mum was the centre of his world and his hobby was to make life easier and happier. They rarely spent time apart. Not a day went by when he did not mention her. In his last days he was dreaming of her. So, while it is such a difficult thing to have to say goodbye to dad, it my great hope and belief that he is now where he will be happiest; in heaven with mum and enjoying his music. 

We will miss you dad.

One Hundred Years Ago

One Hundred Years ago, on the 21 April 1916, my great Grandfather on my Mother's side, Private Edward John Taylor, was Killed in Action in what is now known as Iraq. 

Mum had a badly creased and faded photo which she successfully Photoshopped and on the back in pencil his name and date of death.

I have been researching the family tree and was interested to learn more about my Great Grandfather and thought that the UK Ministry of Defence might hold the records. These are now held at the National Archives in Kew, Surrey, with Ancestry.com providing access to these electronically.  I searched there without success, and found out why....

It is widely known that the majority of British WW1 soldier’s army service records went up in smoke when the War Office warehouse (the Army Records Centre) where they were stored was hit by a German incendiary bomb in an air raid in 1940. It is less well known that many other records were also destroyed. For researchers of the Great War, it was catastrophic.

Dad alerted me to some folders Mum had, a collection of Genealogy records which she had started with and hadn't completed. In the collection was several documents including the following;

Edward's Birth Certificate, born 2nd of October 1875 to parents Edward and Sarah (Nee Thomas) Taylor in Lichfield, Staffordshire, England. 

A Wedding Certificate: On the 1st of July 1904 Edward and Mary Ann Tolley were married in the Walsall Registry Office.

A Medal Record: Edward was 40 years old who, according to the medal record, was Killed in Action.

Below is the Medal Record for 

Private Edward John Taylor 

This confirmed my earlier research which had been based on some assumptions. I had located this record from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, both having the same name (Very Common), but having the same unique Service Number 9742, now confirmed.

7th (Service) Battalion

records.co.uk/units/1715/north-staffordshire-regiment/

The Siege of Kut-al-Amara (1915-1916)

Major-General Townshend’s forces were surrounded by Turkish forces on 7 December 1915. He calculated that he had enough food supplies to last two months and decided to hold out until relief came. He had 10,000 men at this point, but was encumbered with 2,000 sick and wounded as well as non-combatants and the local population of Kut. The relief effort mounted by the British stalled because there were no proper roads or railways and the river levels fluctuated widely so that navigation was difficult. 

Meanwhile the conditions inside Kut deteriorated. Disease and lack of food reduced the garrison to a pitiable state and the soldiers were forced to slaughter horses and mules for food. When relief failed to arrive and negotiations by Colonel T.E. Lawrence (of Arabia) failed, Townshend had to surrender his 10,000 troops (British and Indian) to the Turks on 29 April 1916. The prisoners of war were harshly treated and 4,000 died in captivity. This was the fate of Thomas George Irons (1st Btn OBLI) who died of dysentery on 8 May 1916. Henry Grace DCM (1st Btn OBLI) died of disease on 21 April 1916 at Kut, during the surrender. He had been decorated for conspicuous gallantry at Kut-al-Amara. Frederick George Parslow (1st Btn OBLI) accidentally drowned in the River Tigris whilst transferring from one boat to another, on 31 May 1915.

The surrender at Kut-al-Amara was a humiliating blow to the prestige of the British Empire and the British government took over control of the Mesopotamian campaign from the Indians in the summer of 1916. Much investment was made in the port facilities at Basra, new roads and railways were built and modern weaponry supplied. Under General Sir Stanley Maude, British troops retook Kut-al-Amara in February 1917 and occupied Baghdad in March. 

Disease was still a major cause of death amongst the troops and Thomas William Lee (also of the 1st Btn OBLI) died of dysentery or cholera on 1 August 1917. General Maude also succumbed to disease and died of cholera in November 1917. The British effort was then scaled down and the armistice with Turkey on 30 October 1918 effectively ended the campaign, which had cost the British army 27,000 fatalities, 13,000 of whom had died of disease. 


The fulltext can be found at http://amershamhistory.info/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/K2.pdf

One could hardly imagine what these soldiers went through!

The 1914-15 Star, British War Medal and Victory Medal, as per the record for 

Private Edward John Taylor

The Basra Memorial 

before the desert sands did their work.

As Feargal Keane, BBC Correspondent says:

"Curiously Saddam Hussein preserved this monument. He had it moved, carefully, from the port to the desert but did not destroy it. 'Perhaps he had some feeling for the fallen warrior,' a British officer said to me..."


"Over the decades the desert winds have done their work: segments of the slate have collapsed on the ground. There are little fragments of names scattered in the sand. A large crack has appeared where the men of the Western Ontario Regiment are remembered. Nearby is a sentence as sad as any I've read in war. It says simply: For Subhadar Mahanga and 1,770 other Indian soldiers." 

______________________________________

Scanning Old Photos Part 1

Me at 5 years and a Monkey at Lichfield Bower 

School onboard the Castel Felice on the way to Australia 1964

Tom and Ann Anslow leaving on their honeymoon at Trent Valley Station Lichfield 1952

Tom and Ann Anslow watching the cricket. 

Ann Anslow and I at Tascott c1990

Ann Anslow and I at Epping 1978

Goodbye Mum

Ann Anslow's Eulogy

When Mum was diagnosed with end stage cancer on the 17th December, it came as a shock to us all, but most of all to Mum.

Just three weeks prior, Mum was attending Tai Chi, getting ready for Christmas and looking forward to spending time with her family.

Family was very important to Mum. It was Mum who was the backbone of our family having met Dad at 16 and married at 19. A marriage that lasted 62 years through changing circumstances, including emigrating from Lichfield England to Launceston Tasmania and onto the mainland, supporting a husband and raising a son without help from family who were so far away.

Throughout her life and all of the changes, Mum was someone who cared for others in need and had a deep love of children and animals. This was also supported by her vibrant, outgoing, friendly personality. Every challenge was met with a strong determination to succeed.

Mum never discriminated against anyone and would talk to everybody. She enjoyed conversation, loved to laugh and had a younger outlook on life, than her years. The social interaction and good friends made at Tai Chi, the Grace City Church and computer classes was a pleasure for her.

Mum’s will power is best explained by her determination to have her back operation. When she was advised that the curvature of spine and her lower vertebrae had disintegrated to the point where there was nothing that could be done for her, Mum’s response was “No bloody way am I ending up in a wheelchair!”

She badgered the specialist for 12 months to perform the operation. The specialist was not able to avoid Mum and conceded defeat, and agreed to operate.

During recovery, she pushed all boundaries and in 4 days, after 16 screws and a wedge in the lower back, Mum was trying to run up and down corridors to prove her fitness - at 80 years of age. The surgeon said “Gee, I wish all my patients were like Ann.”

Mum was determined to get back to her friends and activities.

During all this time though, Mum kept an eye on Dad, to make sure he was looking after himself while she was in hospital.

Mum always had compassion for those in need of assistance. This was especially evident when Mum managed the Launceston Women’s shelter for a number of years. Upon receiving a call for help, Mum would drive alone at the night to pick up women in need of help, protection and shelter. It was not a particularly safe job however true to form, Mum would not be persuaded to do otherwise.

This role of support and assistance was repeated later in life when Mum worked at Tresillian Mother’s and Babies facility at Willoughby.

This was also true when Mum and Dad went to buy a Chihuahua puppy when they were living in Sydney. It was brought to Mum’s attention that a little Yorkshire terrier was being abused and in need of a home, so Yorkie came to live with them.

Yorkie never left Mum’s side after. The one thing Mum always missed after moving to Pine Needles was her dogs.

Mum enjoyed her family and was at her happiest when Heather, the daughter she never had, Samantha, her granddaughter, who she enjoyed spoiling, and I visited.

There is a very large gap now in our lives without Mum. We know that she would want us to remember her for her outgoing, buoyant approach to life.

We will miss you Ann!

Old Colour Slides

Scanning the family Colour Slides.

Here is a Before and After - Me on Christmas 1964, Our home in Whittington, Lichfield, England.

In 1965 on the way to Australia on the T/V Castel Felice.

Mum is wearing the pink top and I'm hanging onto the railing.

Mum and I.

In 1964 on the way to Australia on the T/V Castel Felice at Aden, Federation of South Arabia, now part of Yemen.

Trevallyn, Launceston, Tasmania in 1965. My primary school can be seen and the cream coloured house, top left hand side was our home. The hilltop is now built up.

A visit to Cradle Mountain, Lake St Clare National Park in 1968

Our back garden at Fairthorne Rd Trevallyn with Kim our Rescue Dog 1969

Sniffy the cat and I at Kootara Place, Trevallyn 1971

Dad at work 1976

A coincidence and a little family history

The Brownhills Colossus A.K.A Jigger

During Our UK Trip in 2009 I took the photo above when visiting Brownhills where my mother had lived as a child and where my parents met.

On the A452 roundabout in the little town of Brownhills in the Black Country of the UK is a imposing 12 meter tall sculpture, created by sculptor John McKenna, of a coal miner, made from welded stainless steel sheet.

A contest was held a couple of years after the artist 's sculpture was erected in 2008 and the winner was Jak Groves a local schoolboy, who suggested "Jigger" the nickname of his Great-Great Grandfather, in tribute to all who had worked in dreadful and dangerous conditions and sometimes paying the ultimate sacrifice.

I later found out from Mum that Jack "Jigger" Taylor is my Great Uncle on my mum's side of the family. My Maternal grandmother was Sarah Jane Taylor and Jack was her brother.

On the evening of 22nd of January 1951 Jack was critically injured when part of the roof of the Walsall Wood pit collapsed. He died two days later after an emergency operation, leaving his wife, Ivy, and children John, Jill and Valerie. Jack and his family had lived lived in Bridge Street, Clayhanger and "Jigger" rests at St James Church in Brownhills. 

Sadly the inquest into his death was brief and the outcome was “Accidental Death”. By today's standards this disregard for human life would not have been acceptable.

Jack went down the pit in 1929 aged 14 and died at 36

Was Yer Ferther A Miner?

Was yer ferther a miner like mine

Did he work in the dirt and the grime

Went to work on a byke, used a bow saw and pike

To dig out black diamonds that shine?

Was yer ferther a wrecked body like mine

Through working in dust, no sunshine

His shuky was his light, damaging God’s given sight

Deep in the dark bowel face of the mine?

Did he take a piece of best Sunday cake

Ter give to the pit pony, whose poor limbs ached

As he dragged a pit tub through rubbish-sludge

So mine owners their profit could make?

Did he bath by the fire in a tub

Un yer mother his marked back did scrub

Scratch caused by low roof, scars plain making proof

Of the days of pit-props and horse hoof?

Did he often sit and tell the old tale

Of disaster and pain that prevailed

When the roof tumbled in – rock ripped at the skin

And sight of widows – children their faces pale?

But if you asked this old ferther of mine

Ter tell yer about it, his old eyes would shine

No sad tale to tell, of the Muck – the Hell

But would proudly boast

‘Ar them days of hard work were mine’.

1964 - Castel Felice on route to Australia.

Arriving on board at Southampton.

  

A photo of me with some other bewildered kids struggling with the lady's Italian accent.
I'm the one second on the left of the lady reading.



I remember that not long out of Southampton  we experienced a severe storm in the Bay of Biscay. our cabin was located on deck C, forrad and to port, the small porthole spent  most of the time underwater. We were seasick along with most of the passengers and crew. The best thing to for seasickness is to be on deck, so we did, I remember being in a saloon at night watching the storm.

My Mum and Dad sitting closest on the right. there was two sittings, one separate for the children

A lapel badge

Our voyage took us though the Suez Canal, the Ship stopping at Port Said, Aden, Fremantle, Melbourne, finally arriving in Sydney. We disembarked at Station Pier in Melbourne and traveled the last leg to Launceston, Tasmania, by  plane, an Ansett ANA Fokker Friendship

The Castel Felice has quite a history. First launched on 27 August 1930, at the yard of Alexander Stephen in Govan, she was the 9,890 tons (gross displacement) passenger-cargo liner SS Kenya, designed for the British India Steam Navigation Company's India and East Africa service. She then became HMS Hydra, a troop carrier for Royal Navy in World War II, then converted to an armed infantry landing ship, HMS Keren, she saw service in various roles, including the invasion of Sicily and Italy. In 1949, Kenya underwent a complete conversion for the liner services and entered Sitmar service as the Castel Felice in 1952.

POSTCARD : S / S CASTEL FELICE, SITMAR LINE GENOA

At 12,400 tons she carried 596 cabin passengers and 944 emigrants. Castel Felice made her first voyage to Australia in 1952 but made only a few cruises from Sydney. She made a number of liner voyages from Europe to the Americas before being sold for breaking up in Taiwan in 1970.