- Contributed by
- actiondesksheffield
- People in story:
- Ken Hoult - L/Cp 1908893 J.K.W. Hoult R.E.
- Location of story:
- Sheffield
- Article ID:
- A3834173
- Contributed on:
- 27 March 2005
This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Bill Ross of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Ken Hoult, and has been added to the site with the author’s permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.
I came home on leave in 1941 and we became engaged. I bought my Nancy an engagement ring and I had a signet ring. I went back to Iceland on Cloud Nine. Nancy carried on working in the High Class old-fashioned grocery shop. We exchanged letters, as was normal, but no mention of the incident, which happened to both of us concerning the rings.
Nancy first: whilst serving a customer with loose biscuits from a large square tin, the ring fell into the bag. Panic reigned for most of the day until the lady came back and said to Nancy, “Is this yours?” Great relief all round.
I went swimming in an inlet down the fiord, which was tidal. When I got back to the camp, the ring was missing. For three days, I visited the spot looking for the ring, but to no avail. On the fourth day it was pouring with rain and I was at panic stations, but I persevered and the rain came to my aid. There, shining in all its glory was the ring, to my great relief. It was not until I returned to the UK that these two incidents became known. They were a topic of conversation until Nancy sadly died in 2002. Nancy’s ring had a sad ending; it was chewed up by a mower on the bowling green. All was not lost however, I purchased a new ring at a much greater cost than the original, but she was worth it.
IT IS, IT ISN'T
Whilst in Iceland, I had occasion to go to the new airfield that was being constructed just after it became usable. I was walking alongside one of the runways and watching a plane come in, it was larger than a Tiger Moth but had two open cockpits. It caused me to do a double take as the gentleman in the rear cockpit, in a flying helmet was none other than Mikhailovich Molotov, the foreign minister of the USSR and famous for the Molotov Cocktail. I did not have time to get his autograph; it all happened in seconds.
PR-BR
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