We will remember

 

Here in The Netherlands we remember our war deaths at May 4, but when my father was dying I promised him to remember him, his friend Ron and Father Richard Stoffels at the same time as the English remember those who gave their lives for freedom.

I still don't know which squadron(s) he served, even though I've spend many hours searching.
But in my mind's eye, the photos are engraved, and the memories these men created are still with me even though they're all long gone.
They're so close, that often I feel like I could stretch out my hands and lay them in theirs.

They gave us freedom, and they're still walking in that freedom with me and my family.

It's sad that I want to go to England so much, but I'm never able to go there.
I want to lay a wreath of poppies at one of the war memorials.
They deserve it.

The lost men of WW2 deserve to be acknowledged.
Not all lists are complete.
A lot of work needs to be done.
Sometimes I'm able to find a face and a name together. because of the way a man looks, because of his hair, or because of s smile.
Sometimes veterans can't be found in the records, and they're denied the place in the old veteran's home they deserve.
That makes me so sad.

Each year the tears in my eyes find their way to express how deep I feel about what all these men and woman have done to create freedom.
And I'm glad to say that my children also feel the deep gratitude we all should have.

Many young and also older people are not aware how important it is that tolerance and respect are central in our behaviour.
We should always have peace as a central goal in what we say and do. Other people are not our enemies, but when we're not able to make them our fellow fighters for freedom, they might become our enemies.
Never ever should we need to send so many men and women to free so many people from oppression.
That means that we have to guard our attitude each and every moment.

I try, because their love for peace and freedom has grown in my heart too.


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I'm looking for Family Brotherton

 

My father

I'm looking for members of Family Brotherton who used to live at 11 Grange Road Wolverhampton.

My father stayed with a Family Brotherton during WW2.

He was able to escape from The Netherlands and he wanted to serve in the RAF.

Because he was too young to stay on the militairy terrain 24 hours a day, he stayed with a family.

There were a couple of daughters (one called Sally) and one or more sons.

One of the daughters was called Catherine/Cathy.

She married John Brotherton.

My dad (Jan Geertsen) and I visited them in 1968 and we were welcomed like he was their brother and I was their daughter.

We've had a marvelous time.

Catherine Brotherton was a small woman with a huge heart. She was very kind.

She sang in a church choir.

If I remember well they had a few children: Sarah (or was it Bernadette?), Catherine, Littl John and Marc-Anthony.

I also remember an older person, the oldest son (or brother) called Tony/Anthony.

Later he married Carol, a teacher, and they lived in Walsall.

She took me a year later to the school she was teaching. It was a kind of international school with very enthusiastic people full of inspiration.

I was very moved by the story that aunt Cathy's younger brother (when I remember well) died during the war. Dad and she went to the war memorial near Wolverhampton.

(Brotherton Norman Frederick Sergeant (W.Op/Air Gnr) 95684976 Sqdn Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve Son of Lillian Brotherton of Wolverhampton. Died - 13 August, 1941. Aged - 21. Memorial - Becklingen War Cemetery, Germany. 21 A6  Quoted from: http://www.wolverhamptonwarmemorials.org.uk/memorial_pages/Men%20of%20Wolverhampton/wolverhampton_roll_of_honour_WW2.htm )

The neighbour of the Brothertons was Ron.

He also served in the RAF and took us to the Lake District to show us where his squadron trained for a special mission.

I was young, 12 years, I was very impressed by the lake and the nature around and  didn't pay much attention to what both my father and Ron were saying. Only later I realized he'd probably served as a Dambuster.

Ron took dad and me to a lot of places in England and Wales. 

We also stayed a couple of days with Ken Brotherton and his wife in Kendal.
Ken was a Royal Engineer an he was one of the designers of the bridge of Deventer or Zutphen.
I've seen his sketches.

In 1969 or 1970 we went back to the Brothertons with my mother and sister.

My parents stayed with Cathy and John, and my sister and I stayed the nights with Tony and Carol.

Later Cathy and John moved to another house with a bay window.

When my father was dying we were able to talk on the phone and I arranged for dad a wonderful flowerarrangement in the colours of our flags: red, white and blue, as a present from Cathy and all the family.

He was very moved to have his english family so close to him during his last days and one of his last looks in this world was on the flowers of the people he loved so dearly.

A few years later my mother was informed that aunty Cathy had died. She said she wasn't able to reply back because she didn't have an address.

When my mother cleared my father's things the addresses were lost, she said.

I've always hoped I would find the addresses again or find the family online.

My stay with aunty Cathy has had a great impact on my life and now I'm older I would love to meet the family again.

So please contact me when you know them.

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Mystery

 

I wrote in 2015:


Isn't it strange: I can't find any records of my father, nor from the highly decorated army chaplain Stoffels, not in the RAF-files, nor in the Dutch files, and I'm sure they both served in the RAF.

I've seen enough paperwork they both had in their possession, I've spoken with people who were with them in England, I've seen photos.
Lots of them. With my father in a Lancaster, in front of Spitfires, in front of a WW2 wireless console, with his colleagues, etc etc.
My dad had a desk with long drawers which were divided in two parts. The front part for everyone to see, and the back part one could only access by pulling out some hidden parts at the side of the desk.
He kept photos there from his English family, as we called the Brothertons, letters, some army stuff, reconnaissance photos with his handwriting on them, a badge, a flight cap, a letter with  thank you for his war efforts, a logbook, booklets with instructions and some other WW2 items.

There's absolutely no doubt he served in the RAF.
Yet, there is nothing to be found.


Later I found out more and I've put it all in this blog.