BILLY and BETTY WISE

BILLY and BETTY WISE

Ten years ago my father died age 75, he was just 19 years of age when he was called up to fight for his country.

Before the outbreak of the Second World War he was a promising drummer and had won a heat of the “Carl Levis Discoveries”. Accompanied by his friend Tommy Claridge who played the piano accordion, they were together known as the Wise Brothers and played their version of “Limehouse Blues” on the radio show.

After completing his army training as a sapper in the Berks and Bucks Light Infantry my father was shipped out to Egypt, to take part in the North African Campaign. During this time he was taken prisoner while laying mines, but managed to escape one night during a sand storm. Accompanied by another soldier they miraculously found their way back to the British Lines. Following this he was then involved in fighting in the Knightsbridge Box, under the command of Field Marshall Montgomery, and then, with the North African Campaign drawing to a close he was sent to Malta, which had been badly bombed. During his short stay there some of my fathers fellow soldiers found some drums and Dad played while others sang which cheered them all up. He then landed in Sicily before moving up through Italy, where a lot more resistance was encountered. He eventually reached Venice, from where he was flown home at the end of the conflict.

In December 1945 my father walked my mother home from a local dance and they became engaged in 1946 and married in January 1947. My Mum had a miscarriage in December 1947 but fell pregnant with my brother the next year. During this time my Dad was starting to feel unwell and he was admitted to Stone Mental Hospital near Aylesbury for treatment after which he was allowed to come home. Following several more visits to hospital, one of which was while my brother was born, he came home and managed to go back to his job at the railway works for a short time. By this time my father was locked in a nightmare that he could not cope with and continually played improvised drums while the men who worked with him tried to cover up for him. During this time my Mum had fell pregnant with me and by the time I was born my Dad was again in hospital. He came home for the last time shortly after I was born, but three months later was admitted to St. Andrews Hospital in Northampton, dedicated to the care of mentally ill patients, where he remained until his death in 1995. My Grandfather managed to sort out the financial arrangements, as this is a private hospital and we had no money to pay for his care.

My Mother brought us up on her own with very little money but she was so grateful that my father had the best care money could buy. She scrimpt and saved and was a wonderful mother, at a time when single parents were rare. Every week Mum would visit Dad and my brother and I went with her as often as we could during his forty five-year stay. She was devoted to him and she is still alive today aged 86 years. During the war years Mum was in the offices of the Wolverton Carriage Works where my Dad also worked before and after the war in the Brass Finishing workshop. Mum could not be released from her job to go nursing so instead became a St. John Ambulance volunteer.

Her courage in facing her troubles is an example to us all and she still says, “It had to be done”.

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