Page 74 - br-nov-2021

November 2021
Normandy (It Could Have
Been Me)
The sky was dark when we left home,
as we went to fight the hun.
Our orders were to put an end to
what he had begun.
I did not know what to expect, as I
sat with my rifle against my knee.
Now, I stand and look at the rows of
graves and think it could have been
me.
I didn’t think of myself as a hero, as I
fought my way onto dry land.
Over tank traps and barbed wire, I
clawed my way up the sand,
When the ramp of the landing craft
lowered, and we waded through the
bloody sea.
Now, I stand and look at the rows of
graves and think it could have been
me.
We made our way south through
Normandy, to where we dug
ourselves in.
We were under constant shell fire. I
did not think that we could win.
There was no glory in the stench of
carnage and debris.
Now, I stand and look at the rows of
graves and think it could have been
me.
74
November 2021
I try not to remember but I cannot
forget.
My best mate was blown apart, and
that still haunts me yet.
It chills me to the bone. In a place
where life should be,
Now, I stand and look at the rows of
graves and think it could have been
me.
I have had no desire to return to this
place, since nineteen forty-four.
Then, I was simply doing my job, when
this country was at war.
As I look back over my shoulder, as far
as my eye can see,
Now, I stand and look at the rows of
graves and think it could have been
me.
Paul J Openshaw (2014)
OBITUARIES
go, including my Mum, and being the noble young gentleman he
was, he refused. So they were both sacked! Certainly that’s the
story I was told, anyway!
On April 7 1980 they were married at Affpuddle, and a couple of years later
th
I came along. They set up home in Elder Road, Bere Regis, where they lived
for the next 19 years before moving down to Bitchams Mead after my
Grandparents passed away.
During the summer of 1984, Dad received the shocking news that he had
Hodgkin’s Disease and spent a lot of time in hospital receiving
Chemotherapy and Radiotherapy under the amazing care of the Royal
Marsden Hospital in Sutton, finally getting the all clear only to be told 6 years
later in 1990 that it had returned and going through the same process. I know
those events gave Dad a real sense that every day he had after that was an
unexpected bonus, making sure he made the most of his opportunities.
Becoming ill meant that he was unable to continue working as a bricklayer
for Dick Percy, and not being one to sit around doing nothing, he decided he
would study for the degree that he missed out on first time around, with the
Open University. Looking back now, his dedication and commitment to
achieving that whilst at home with a family was amazing, and we were all
immensely proud when he graduated!
I certainly benefited when I was younger from him being at home more, and
he was always happy getting down on the floor with me to build Lego
models and Scalextric tracks or take me up to the Old Surgery at my
Grandparents house where he had turned the old waiting room into a huge
model railway track, although I think I saw it as more of a toy than he did!
In 1989, whilst still studying for his degree, Dad got a job working at Milton
Abbey School, and after working at first as a Physics Technician, then a DT
Technician, he took the job he’d always wanted and became a fully fledged
Design Technology teacher. Personally I know he loved nothing more than
being in the classroom, getting a chance to impart his wisdom onto the next
generation, and sharing his genuine passion for
crafting things. Popularly known as “Mr B” to the
boys, I know his enthusiasm and patience led to the
workshop being a favoured place for students and
he was always happy to stay on a little later or open
up on a Sunday in order to help them finish a project.
It’s been comforting for us to read many of the
tributes left on facebook by students and colleagues
alike recently, and we’re proud knowing he’s left
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