Just for fun, about two years ago I started writing a book about my life and my reason for doing so was that I know hardly anything about my parents lives before I was born. and I thought that if any of my children or grandchildren were to become interested in my past life they would have something to guide them.
As you probably know I am not much of a writer and recently I have been toying with the idea of placing instalments’ of the book on this site to see what reaction it produces among my readers. And that is what I have decided to do, starting today
Here is installment Number one
This story is written in order to inform those that follow, of the details as they are remembered, of a life lived in obscurity, but generally enjoyed.
It also relies very much on the storytellers memory, which is rather selective by nature, and as a result the facts that are related here will be those that I consider to be of importance, but that my reader may question why they have been included.
It begins at the time when the world was standing on the brink of the second world war.
History students will know that during 1939 the German Chancellor Adolf Hitler, and the Russian Secretary General, Joseph Stalin, signed a non aggression pact with the aim of both powers invading Poland, and dividing that territory between them along roughly ethnic lines. Some of the other European powers were of the opinion that these two [ Insane or clever, you must make up your own mind about that ], dictators would not be content with taking over Poland, but were probably set on total world domination.
The British government, having intelligence of the German intentions, and rather foolishly, [as we now know], thinking that they might persuade them to change their plans, gave a guarantee to the Polish government that in the event of an attack on Polish territory by the Germans, they would come to Poland’s’ aid. As we now know the guarantee did not have the desired effect, and on 30th of August 1939 Hitler gave the order to attack Poland.
At 11am on the 3rd of September 1939, the British Government declared Great Britain to be at war with Germany.
Earlier, or to be more precise, on the thirtieth of March nineteen hundred and thirty eight, at the hospital in Wolverton Road, Kingston upon Thames, in the county of Surrey, there was born to the aircraft machinist Peter Henry O’Connor, and his wife, Violet Elsie O’Connor, Nee Crooks, a son.
In order to avoid any confusion developing in the minds of our discerning readers, I hereby give notice that the infant was, and is, the subject of this yarn, and that shortly after the birth I was transported to a local church of the Roman Catholic persuasion and christened Shaun David O’Connor, and that I have been pleased to sail under those colours since that time.