No Time for Melt Downs

Last night, I had just sat down to watch the new BBC series SS:GB when I heard weeping from upstairs.  Somehow, in the space of twenty minutes, my daughter had worked herself into a complete meltdown about all manner of 'what if' scenarios.  Any of us dying or having accidents, grandparents dying, losing all our money, flooding, something happening to the dog.  Failure at SATs (don' get me started).  And Donald Trump starting World War Three.

Needless to say, I haven't yet managed to watch SS:GB.  But I was struck by the irony of dealing with such a stream of nameless but very real worries when I was supposed to watching a dramatisation of one of the ultimate 'what if's' of recent history.  What if the Germans had won World War Two?  According to this series, the British lost the Battle of Britain and things go from there - that much I saw.  Terrifying as we did come very close to this being the case.

Matt Haig, an amazing writer who I follow on Twitter, recently commented that his day now consisted of regular breaks to stop and worry about racism.  And I know what he means.  Despite the fact that in our day to day lives, we can do nothing to influence world politics, there is still a sense of worry hanging in the air.  What hideous thing will happen next?  What will the next newsflash bring?

I have been listening on Audible this week to The Romanovs by Simon Sebag-Montefiore (a history of the imperial family of Russia).  I have just reached the last chapters - an assessment of Russia's part in the World War One .  I did 'Causes of the First World War' at A Level.  It is an unbelievably complicated subject for historians and it has been fascinating to hear it from a Russian point of view.  But I have really had to stop myself from going into my own private meltdown.  So much of it still resonates today.  The machinations.  The awful influence of strange and difficult personalities.  The decades-long slide into war.  The national aims of the countries.

We 'ordinaries' are deluged with more information than our counterparts had a hundred years ago.  About people, organisations and possible outcomes.  There is a lot we still don't know but we are definitely exposed to more.  

We must try not to melt down in the face of this.  Yes, it is important to live our lives as best we can and to enjoy every day.  No, we don't know what will happen.  But we do need to use the resources available to make our views known.  All nations are still plagued with elites who wish to control our destinies.  History has many examples of ordinaries being used as cannon fodder.  Let's not let our generation or our children join that list.

What happened to our family in the First World War, Mum?

This week has, of course, marked one hundred years since the start of the First World War.  The commemorations have been, in my humble opinion, very well staged - dignified and well thought out.  The picture shows Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red, an art installation at the Tower of London by Paul Cummins and Tom Piper.  One of the many impressive tributes to the fallen of 1914-1918, at local, national and international levels.

 

CBBC has been doing a great job of helping my children to understand what this is all about.  They have always been fans of Horrible Histories but there have also been dramas and documentaries for them as well.

 

However, knowing my interest in family history, it has led them to many questions about our own family's part in the First World War.  And it seems, from what I can find out so far, that the immediate, direct families somehow did not have any real involvement.

 

My father's side, as readers of previous posts will know, were all in India.  There appear to have been a number of these Anglo Indian relations in the Indian Medical Service but I cannot find any evidence, as yet, that they served abroad in Europe.

 

As for my mother's family, it appears that my grandmother's side took no role - there not being many male relations.  My grandfather's father was a train driver so presumably his role was to remain at home and keep the trains running.

 

And my in-laws - my children's "other family" -  are Irish and do not appear to have been part of the Irish regiments that were raised, despite the continuing battle for independence.

 

So, a disappointment for my children's interest "what our family did" but obviously a good, if unusual, situation for the families involved!

 

The combination of these rather unusual family situations with an article that I read this week about the home services and their losses during the First World War has, though, spurred me on to investigate where Walter the train driver worked and to check more closely into the Anglo-Indian relations' service.

 

I do not like "presumably" and "seem to" - these phrases spur me on to find more definite information!  There is one place that I think I am going to have to start though and it fills me with dread in many ways.

 

My son, when aged 2-3, was a total train obsessive.  I understand that this is a fairly common toddler trait but given the many Anglo Indians who worked on the Indian Railways and also Walter's family's history, we did wonder.  Living in York provided the perfect place to satisfy all train cravings.  The National Railway Museum!  I knew that place inside out and back to front.  I knew every climbable footplate and every press-able button.  I could get round it blind fold pushing a buggy.... and that place gave endless (free!) joy to my son.

 

I have managed to avoid it in the past couple of years, especially once the "Wheel of York" was moved from its yard.  The article about the services recommends the archives at the museum though.  Who knew?  I thought it was just the hardware - the engines and the royal carriages, the turntable and the Flying Scotsman.  Apparently not.  Apparently it is a mine of useful information about those who worked on the railways.

 

Bet my son won't come with me though, unless they have the history of Minecraft too....  the train days are definitely gone!