In June 1945 my father was 18. He wrote the letter below to my mother, his then girlfriend with momentous news. He had undertaken his first parachute jump preparatory to being admitted as a member of the Parachute Regiment. He was many things in his life but nothing gave him more pride outside of his family than that.
June 1945
8 Platoon
Manchester
To
3 Coy
Darling Barbs,
I’ve made it! – my first jump, I mean. Yesterday morning in the pale, cold light of dawn I diced with death, in other words, I jumped from a balloon at 800 feet yesterday morning. Oh boy, Barbs, it’s the greatest thrill you can imagine. One minute you are hurtling down through space and the next your shute opens and you are floating gently to earth. It is no use my saying I was not scared. I have never felt so awful in my life as I did when I stood at the door and looked down, waiting for the instructor to tap me on the shoulder and say “Go”. I have now 2 more balloon jumps to make (one at night) and then 5 jumps from a Dakota aircraft. Weather providing we’ll get them all done this coming week and get our wings next weekend. If this happens it means I shall get leave in about 10 days time. Sixteen glorious days, during which, of course, I must see you if you can make it. I can’t say definitely if this leave is exactly 10 days time or not, because as I said it all depends on the weather. However, I’ll let you know as soon as I can and ring up your Mama she will perhaps be able to let me know if you are likely to get home or not. I must see you because although the b…. fool Army says I am too young (too young! Me!!!) to be sent abroad, nevertheless I can, I think, volunteer for Active Service abroad, and, of course, I intend to. So maybe this will be my last leave in England, and if I left without seeing you, Barbara, I guess I would be a pretty sad and lonely soldier.
I wrote to your mother just before I left Hardwich but I haven’t received a letter yet from her. Of course, I know she is very busy being a manageress of a Naafi must be a really full time job. I’ll write to her again soon because I think she’s great and a damned good sport.
Here at Ringway we are billeted in Nissen huts and have a wireless in every hut. Honestly, it’s the cushiest joint I’ve ever been in, the only trouble being the pretty tough mental strain before doing a jump. However, that can soon be overcome and I wouldn’t change my life for anything now that I know the wonderful thrill of a jump. And besides, I want to get that little pair of wings on my right shoulder. I am doing my second jump tomorrow at 5.30 of all outrageous times, so here’s hoping the weather remains good.
Well, darling child, I must close and try and get some sleep now, reveille is at 2.30!
All my love
Des
P.S. Please write soon.
Later he did jump from the Dakota and obtain his ‘wings’
His fears, expressed above were captured in a poem he sent to his mother and then my mother later that year
A Paratrooper’s Prayer
When I’m flying at seven hundred
And the red light flickers on
I know I’ll tremble and start to sweat
But, God, let me be strong.
When I look down through the hole, God
It’s like I’m standing by a grave
And my knees go weak and I can’t speak
Then, God, please make me brave.
And if it be Thy will, God
Part of Thine own Great Plan
That my life should stop, then on that last long drop
Oh God, let me die a man!
While I’m waiting to emplane, God
And checking my jumping kit
Though I laugh and jeer I’m full of fear
But, God, don’t let me quit.
When the kite begins to move, God
And take off time is near
Then my heart grows cold – God, make me bold
And drive away my fear.
TanGental 
That is such a great letter, thank heaven you still have them. And the poem is amazing. He was a very talented man. That talent being passed on to his son.
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Ah and you were doing so well until that last sentence!! He really crafted his poetry and made it work in a very classically English way.
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You are too modest! But I agree, your dad´s poetry works.
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I just cannot imagine getting that letter from your boyfriend or that poem from your son. All before ‘health and safety’ concerns! People were made of sterner stuff then.
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They were thrown in the deep end. And most had no doubt about the rightness of their fight which helped.
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Of course…
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This is wonderful…the poetry, the letter, and the young face in that photo!
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Thanks Becky. Having all his letters is special. I’ll share some more from time to time…
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That’s why your dad is known as the greatest generation. Thanks for sharing these amazing writings from your dad.
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Pleasure of course. And yes they had to step up to the plate.
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What treasured possessions that letter and that poem must be. Thank you for sharing them with us. They are rather special.
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They are. Yes I’m lucky to have them
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Such a vivid letter from your dad and nice to see one of the grandmothers mentioned. Having met briefly at your wedding, it’s interesting to see her earlier life alluded to. What an odd time WWII must’ve been for everyone. My MiL said they were all bored at home for a while after it ended!
Great photo mosaic.
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Yes, that’s probably true though he was stuck in the Middle East until 47.
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Bring tears to my eyes, thank you Des 💜.
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And thank you!
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💜
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Beautiful letter and poem. No braver than those who face their fears. I saw a funny photo the other day. It was a soldier in a helicopter with a little note on the back of his helmet. It read, “Stop screaming. I’m scared too.”
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Yes, I can empathise with that. I hope they are encouraged to admit it more Openly these days
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A wonderful letter Geoff and they were such a life line in those days and I know how important they were for my mother particularly not knowing where my father was from one minute to the next. He must have been so proud to get his wings as you must be of him at 18 prepared to put everything on the line.
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It is extraordinary to think of him so, a different world and the same yet a different person.
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When I read my father’s notes about that time it is difficult to marry the weapons expert with the father…x
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Yes, it is difficult to make those links sometime
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There is, of course, no courage without fear
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Quite, it makes it even more admirable some how
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Quite
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What a wonderful post, Geoff. I was so moved by this glimpse into your father’s young life and thoughts. He was brave in the face of fear, and a lovely poet on top of that. The Greatest Generation, for sure.
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Indeed so. He’d be bursting to read that…
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What a great keepsake to have and to know about your dad that way, Geoff.
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He’s like a human onion with so many layers. Odd how he seemed so much like a turnip when I was a teenager…
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😂🤣😘
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Pingback: My Father’s Pride #memories #poetry #parachuteregiment | Smorgasbord Blog Magazine
Sally you star!,
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A great letter, Geoff. I am sure this poem was in the front of your book, Apprenticed to my Mother. It seems very familiar to me and now I will have to go and check.
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It was probably in there somewhere. I’m in awe that he found it within him at 18 to have such self awareness..
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Yes, you definitely started off with a poem he wrote at 18 and I am almost sure it’s this one.
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I love how articulate he was at 18. Thanks for letting us get a glimpse into the life of the parachute soldier.
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He had an interesting childhood not at all easy.
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Well he came through it with integrity.
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How frightening to jump out of an airplane! He did a good job of painting that picture.
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He always captured the essence. Thanks Sharon
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Hi Geoff, So young, so moving and so much courage. How wonderful that you still have that letter. Toni x
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I am v lucky to have found them after my mother died. There are four years worth so i will post more in the future… thanks for reading Toni
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Geoff, this is just wonderful. I am deeply touched reading your father’s letter and poem. I now know where you get your writing talent. You two write much alike. The photos are a real treasure. Thank you so much for this post.
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Pleasure Jennie. Yes, probably why we clashed when i pushed the boundaries/his buttons as a teen. Thank heavens he grew up by the time i reached my 20s…!!
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Haha! It was a pleasure, Geoff.
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What a wonderful family treasure and piece of history!! As others have noted, your dad was very articulate and self-aware at 18, although he does look a mere boy in the photo.
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I know. He regressed a lot by the time i was a teenager to a snotty knowall adolescent but we then both grew up a lot…
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🙂
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What a wonderful letter and a beautiful memory for you as well! Thanks for sharing!
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Delighted you enjoyed Christa. I will post more of them in the future.
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Fantastic! Goosebumps over here, reading this story, Geoff. Thank you for sharing–the photos and all.
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Happy to. More to come.
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Geoff, what a treasure to share with us. Thank you. Your Dad’s young face and his words. ❤ You are a 'chip off the old block' and we owe our lives and freedom now to their generation. ❤
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indeed, whatever one thinks of wars, that one needed winning
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❤
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A wonderful poem. I think the first I’ve ever read on this subject. Parachuters can really be proud. At least in past times, under all these circumstances. Michael
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Thanks Michael; that’s v thoughtful
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Thank you too, Geoff. Whata wonderful poem, remembering a honorable service. Michael
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