From Bristol to Burma. Harry: a life remembered
A veteran of the Burma Campaign 1942-45
Memoirs of Henry George Hopton , Written by Harry in the 1990's
Compiled by Harry's daughter Mary Cole.
In 1939 I was 18 and we were at war with Germany, all my friends in the territorial army were called up instantly, most had been with the Somerset Light Infantry, Signal Corps.
Air raid precautions (ARP) had already set up and it was as a member of that Alf had learned all about the danger of mass bombing raids.
My work became much more varied and I found roofing to be the major part of my occupation. My dad was considered a roofing expert by many and I learned much from him.
At night I joined the street fire watch team, we met in a small wooden hut beside the Co-op (At the top of Chester Park Road). We patrolled the area but mainly Chester Park Road, watching out for fire bombs when the raids were on. These were signalled by a mass of wailing fire alarms giving out intermittent sound. The all clear was one long wail on the same sirens.
When the air raids began on Bristol we were given St Johns Lane and adjacent roads to repair houses in the area, mainly roofs and windows. Instead of glass, the windows were covered with a clear material made from fish oil (we were told); this was fixed to windows by wood lathes which we normally used for ceilings.
Royal Engineers were sent ahead of us on rooftops and where they saw a cracked tile, they left two to replace it. We followed putting in the required tiles, our stocks of tiles increasing greatly in those early days. After months of this one man could retile a whole roof in a day!.
We became a major source of comfort to the many people whose homes were damaged nighty, much damage being caused by the shrapnel from antiaircraft shells. These tiles had a small hole on top about the size of a pencil and a large hole below; these were particularly hard to spot.
There were many sad tales, a man returning home from the garden toilet, hit in the back and killed by an oil bomb which also burned down his house. A soldier searching for his parents in a destroyed house for three days with no success went back off leave. The following day his parents were dug out having only just died.
Peoples staircases were destroyed and we had a directive to "repair the roof and make one room habitable ". There was so much to do. We were usually able to provide a ladder to enable things to be brought down from bedrooms. Everyone worked together and made the best of the situation, a few blamed god for letting it all happen but most having been well taught in Sunday school and influenced by christian broadcasts, counted their blessings and thanking god for his care in such conditions.
Hugh Carson, Dick Shepherd are two such men I remember but there were many others having been moved by the turn of the century evangelists, Gypsy Smith, Sankey and Moody, Torrey Alexander, Oswald Smith etc. It was a joy to be working in such a community even those on the means test were thankful for their meagre comforts.
At 19 I was called to attend a medical ready for service in the army but, as I was in the building trade, I was put on Class B reserve. I also had a Grade 4 due to my mastoid operation.
Six months later I was called in again, this time I passed A1 grade and, as the bombing had eased, my B reserve was set aside. Holding two grades cards, one Grade 4, the other A1 I asked the clerk which one he wanted, he said "do you want to go?", I said "I did not mind either way or the other" so he tore up the Grade 4 card. Asked which service I wanted to join I said "I would like the navy", he said "there is not much call for roof tilers in the navy " so, he put me in the Army.
We were sent to Bullford Barracks near Salisbury. As a 19 year old I found the whole exercise challenging and I soon became very fit. Also as I was amongst the youngest, I was well looked after by the older men.
We did a crash course in education which was very stimulating and I learned more in a month than in all of my schooling. Also after half an hour driving around a field, we were sent out with an instructor, driving lorries around the narrow streets of Salisbury. Once we had passed all our tests we had a grand passing out parade with some passing out, not quite the way it was meant.
After a short leave we were sent to York to defend Yorkshire in the Cross Keys Division. By day we drove to Hull to clear loads of rubble left by the nightly bombing by Germany. Following Dunkirk we were moved down to Farringdon, the Division being the first line of defence.
Whilst at Farringdon a young boy used to attend our dances with his older sister. He was later to become the vicar at St Johns. Also just up the road in Abingdon, a child played with others, having a nanny in charge, he would later become the curate at St Johns. A further spot of
leave and we prepared to go overseas. All the locals said we were going to India but no one really knew.
On the night before our departure I was in the billet bemoaning the fact that I had not received a letter from Stella. My corporal suddenly said "you chump, she has came in lieu of a letter". "I went to the end of the drive and found Stella and my sister Joyce who had walked five miles to come to see me. The next day we caught the train to Greenock. Arriving in the dark we were shepherded by the red caps straight onto boats. Our lorries had been loaded at Birkenhead a month earlier".
At this point my father's memoirs stop and although it is known that he wrote more, with the passage of time, sadly these have been lost. He was keen for us to read his memoirs as he thought we would find them interesting. Therefore, in his memory, I decided to complete his life story using his military records, photos, regimental diary entries, extracts from The Waggoner (The RASC magazine), letters he wrote to the Burma Star Magazine, The DEKHO! Burma veterans family Facebook groups and personal memories from family members.
On the 14th April 1942 dad embarked a ship from the Clyde and on the 15th, aged 21, set sail along with the whole of the second division. He and the other troops were soon to find out that they were indeed bound for India as the locals had thought. They took over two months to reach India with a quick stop at Cape Town. On the 7th June 1942 the ship docked at Bombay (now Mumbai).
The Americans had entered the war on the 7th December 1941 when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour (Hawaii) and the United States became allied to Britain. The Japanese then invaded Malaya, Singapore, the Philippines and the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia) and were moving into Thailand (by agreement with the Thai government), so giving them direct access to Burma (now Myanmar).
Burma was part of the British Empire at that time. On 23rd December 1942, Japan bombed Rangoon (now Yangon the Burmese capital) and invaded Burma. They drove out the British, American and Indian troops and by May 1942 Burma had fallen. Many people were displaced and the retreating armies blew up bridges as they went to try and halt the Japanese advance. Many troops found themselves on the wrong side of the rivers after the bridges had been blown up and many troops and civilians alike trekked for miles in order to reach the border with India. A large number were not fortunate enough to make it and died by the roadside, were killed or taken prisoner. General Slim, Commander of the 14th Army, estimated that 8% of his troops died as a result of disease due to their poor physical condition on their arrival in India.
Indian, British and American troops retreated across into Nagaland (now part of North East India, Assam province ) where the main British base was at Imphal and a small garrison at the hill town of Kohima. Here there was a hospital and engineering works. Supplies came via the railhead at Dimapur to Kohima and Imphal which were the the furthest outposts of British power in India. These quiet and sleepy places were now dealing with floods of refugees fleeing from Burma. Britain wanted to protect its empire and now troops, including dad, were being sent to defend it.
On leaving the UK dad was with the 4th Infantry Brigade, 24 Company but was also posted to Lucknow, in Uttar Pradesh province India, with the 24th Infantry Brigade in February 1943 where he would have undertaken further training. He later joined the 2nd Division, Royal Army Service Corp (RASC) in February 1943 as a driver and 387 company.
Mum wrote to dad every day, but with post being sporadic and the fluid nature of troop movements, dad would often receive whole parcels of her letters bundled together. He valued news from home and for many troops, this must have been a great source of comfort as well as a vital link to the relative normality of England.
Whilst in Bombay, Dad sent the following photo to mum, (Stella, his then girlfriend) just 12 days before his 22nd birthday. For security reasons he had to remove part of the envelope which would have shown where this was taken but in fact, the building on the Colaba Causeway still exists toady and is situated at the edge of a popular market area of Mumbai (former Bombay)
By November of 1943 it was thought that an offensive was being planned so Dad's 387 company under Major A Prior was turned into a 387 Dukw company and training became very intensive. Dukw training was around Juhu and Marde Island, Bombay although initially the RASC Dukw drivers took part in famine relief or were on jungle training at Belgaum.
The war in Europe had now been raging for over 4 years and much of the equipment and ships had been taken away in preparation for the D Day landings on June 6th 44. Lieutenant Colonel Cleeves (RASC) remarked that this situation had disheartened them and because of such actions, The 14th Army would come to be known as "The Forgotten Army"
However, the 387 Dukw company carried on training in preparation for an operation in the Arakan (West coast Burma) and were sent to Calcutta in special trains. Once again this operation was cancelled and disheartened, the troops parked up their vehicles and returned to Ahmednagar, near Bombay.
In March 1944, 84,000 men of the Japanese 15th army commanded by General Reyna Mutagushi launched a pre-emtive strike across the Chindwin river in north Burma. It's primary aim and purpose was to encircle and destroy the British 1V Corps at Imphal to prevent the launch of a British and Indian attack across the border to retake Burma.
To achieve this Mutagushi ordered 2 of his divisions, the 15th & 33rd to encircle and destroy the British and Indian forces on the Imphal Plain. His 3rd Division, the 31st, commanded by Lt General Sato was to strike west to cut the road between the great supply depot and railhead at Dimapur thus preventing reinforcements from going to the aid of IV Corps. The road was to be cut at the small hill station of Kohima which sat at the pass through the hills. Once this was achieved, Mutagushi further planned to head off into India proper. He had been convinced that the Indians would then rise up in support against the British. This, the Japanese claimed, was the start of their march on Delhi.
The British, of course, knew that the Japanese were heading towards Kohima but they didn�t fully appreciate the numbers and the speed of approach. The Japanese 31st Division comprised about 13,500 men!
When the situation became known, the Dukw companies, including dad's 387 company, were rushed to the 14th Army by rail, road and air reaching the northern rail town at Dimapur by the 2nd April 1944. The 14th Army comprised of some 600,000 troops with British fighting alongside Indians, Gurkhas, Americans, West Africans, East Africans, Chinese, Burmese and warrior tribes from the Naga,s, Chins, Karchins and Karens.
By the time they reached Dimapur , 2,500 troops from the Royal West Kents, The Assam rifles, the Assam regiment and non combatants had been surrounded by 13,500 Japanese troops at and around the slopes of Kohima.
The Allies fought for the the hills around Kohima but were gradually pushed to Garrison Hill, where they became besieged. Under extreme and terrifying conditions, they managed to hold out until the 18th April 1944 when, the 2nd Division with the Royal Engineers, managed to get a tank through the Japanese lines. Sleep deprived and short of supplies, the army had to be resupplied by air drops which, due to the close proximity of the fighting, would often fall into the hands of the Japanese. By now the Japanese had little air power and air drops were brought in from India across mountainous areas nicknamed "the hump" by allied airmen. Hand to hand combat was commonplace and at one point during the siege, British, Indian and Japanese troops fought across the tennis court of the deputy commissioners bungalow.
With little call for amphibious vehicles, and most Dukw,s being weeks away in Southern India, the Dukw companies were turned over to infantry and dads 387 company was tasked with taking the Aradura Spur area of Kohima. The battle for Kohima raged on the hills surrounding the small garrison and, as the Japanese were well dug in, it was not until June 22nd that the battle for Kohima was ended.
The allies were aided greatly by the local Naga tribesmen who knew the land intimately. They fought, acted as guides and porters and also managed to help evacuate some of the walking wounded, under cover of dark, during the Kohima Garrison Hill siege; taking them through the Japanese lines without detection. The battle for Kohima was thought to be the fiercest battle of WW11 and along with the reopening of the Kohima Imphal road and repelling the Japanese at Imphal barracks , theses battles were the pivotal point at which the war turned in the allies favour. 4,000 British and Indian troops were killed or missing and 7,000 Japanese died in the battle for Kohima and Imphal.
Dad did write about his experience in India/Burma in one of his lost memoirs. He lent a copy to one of his Burma veteran colleagues and after his death, his description of the battlefield was published in their magazine. It read "it was a terrible place to be....... all the trees were cut off at three feet by gunfire...... tanks had their turrets blown off and tracks broken..... steel helmets with a holes in the middle of the forehead were everywhere. The crying and screaming was a terrifying experience".
"The Japanese created much anger by tying our prisoners to trees with barbed wire and then using them for bayonet practice. 1,500 British and 34,000 Japanese died in one battle ". I think that dad's faith would have been very precious to him during his war service and as one West Kent said of his time in the siege of Kohima "it didn't matter if you were religious or not, everyone prayed, you prayed, you shot and prayed" The Japanese reputation for barbaric fighting was now well known so the fear of being captured was at the forefront of every soldiers mind.
With the monsoon season approaching (May/June to October), the Japanese did not expect the Allies to pursue them. Up to 10 inches of rain could fall in one day, everyday, and landslides along the poorly developed roads were common. However, that is exactly what happened. The downside, as dad explained, was the leaches which attached themselves to all parts of the body and the soldiers having to find ever inventive ways of removing them. The other big problem, as dad recalled, was when it came to eating. He said "when you came from the cookhouse you had to keep your billycan covered, if you didn't, huge birds would swoop down and literally take the meat from right under your nose".
After Kohima dad was placed on attachment with the Royal Welsh Fusiliers for one month. In his letter to the DEKHO magazine (Summer Edition 1998) dad wrote. "After Kohima we were given lorries to take to Imphal. A Sergeant came by and called out the names of all the youngest; we were told to dismount the lorries and were marched to the Royal Welsh Fusiliers. We were told we were getting two days training then we had to take that hill over there. It was 5,000 feet! "This we duly did and we found a Japanese camp at the top which we also took over. As we got to the top, we found the Japanese had run away".
These events were documented in the Welsh Fusiliers diary. It shows that around the 8th June 1944, 20 RASC drivers re-roled as infantrymen. The battalion had taken heavy casualties at Kohima and the Aradura Spur and were short of men. By early June they were heading south along the road to Imphal through mountainous area. The diary then reports that on the 18th June 44, the Welsh Fusiliers along with the 7th Worcestershire regiment attacked the mountain village of Mao Songsong. Expecting heavy opposition as they set off, once at the top, the Japanese had actually abandoned it. The hill was actually 5,500 feet.
Following this the Dukw companies reformed and dad recalls "after taking the hill we were told to collect our Dukw,s and proceed to the Chindwin River where with the Royal Engineers, we built the first of the bridges".
Firstly, 387 Dukw's were tasked with a nine day trip on the monsoon flooded Yu river and Khampat Chaung to bring back casualties from the 11th East African Division. Here they quickly learned about the difficulties of operating on the swollen Burma rivers. Huge logs would jam the DUKW's propellers, sand and mud banks would narrow the river and the current would run very fast. The Dukw's had to be winched through. One mistake in pulling a Dukw through a 200 yard stretch of river and it would be swept back by a mile.
The next important job for the company was to tow a 1,000 foot long Bailey bridge to span the Chindwin river. The bridge was built up stream and out of range of Japanese guns before being towed by the Dukw,s into position. It was the longest Bailey bridge in the world. The Chindwin was crossed at Kalewa through a bridgehead formed by the East Africans but the road from there to Shwegyin was one of the worst stretches of jungle track, reports Lt Col Cleeves so, the experienced 387 Dukw's were used to form a link down the river between Kalewa and Shwegyin until the airfield at Ye-u could be captured. Dukw's carried tons of supplies and troops 8 miles down the river under very difficult conditions. They also had the difficult and harrowing job of evacuating the wounded troops. Many of the Dukw's were shot at by Japanese Zero aeroplanes and one carrying petrol was blown up; luckily the driver escaped.
Dad also mentions his river crossing in his 1998 letter to the DEKHO! He writes "I think we sank most of the pontoons, but that's another story. From then on I never once went out in my Dukw without being shelled, dive bombed or machine gunned . Once I was in the middle of a tank battle and I also captured floating barges in the middle of the river. Before the bridges were rebuilt, we took tanks across the river on bailey bridge raft sections towed by our Dukw's."
Once across the Chindwin River the Dukw's would follow the advancing troops to the Irrawaddy River where a bridgehead was established east of Shwebo. There the Dukw company maintained the the bridgehead for days as they ferried troops, ammunition and food and again evacuating the wounded.
ventually, dad with 387 company got to Mandalay after building bridges across the Irrawaddy river. A report of the operation by Lt Col Cleeves (The Waggoner 1946) states "Again our R.A.S.C. Dukw's with 387 Company did yeoman work and bore the brunt of carrying the successive flights of infantry. Each flight was under machine-gun fire. One driver (Dvr. Bryar) fell a victim to the Japanese fire, while five more were wounded. Many, however, were the near misses and tiny bullet holes in the Dukws plugged with pegs. Capt. Clark, the O.C., won the Military Cross., and Cpl. Sglon, L./Cpls. Lines and Messe, and Drivers Hall and O'Brien won the Military Medal for their bravery. There was still one more river�the Myitnge�to cross before we entered the southern outskirts of Mandalay and again our rafts and Dukws proved invaluable"
Mandalay was liberated by the Allies on the 21st March 1945. Dad recalled that they had been greatly helped by the Royal Berkshires in the taking of Mandalay.
He also spoke about fighting along side the Gurkhas and how much respect they had amongst the British troops. He would tell us that all the Allied soldiers would ensure they were wearing their belts as these had buckles on. Apparently the Gurkhas were skilled in creeping up behind soldiers in the dark and the only way to distinguished the allies from the Japanese was that the allies wore buckles on their belts. So no buckles, no life.
After Mandalay they pushed on towards the Burma capital, Rangoon (now Yangon). The rapid British advance south through Burma was reinforced by amphibious operation Dracula on the south Burma coast. The Allied success in capturing Mandalay and Meiktila meant that the road to Rangoon was open, and with it the reconquest of Burma. Rangoon was just under 500km away but, the coming monsoon and a lack of transport aircraft threatened the Allied supply chain, so time was of the essence.
Preparations began for Operation Dracula, an amphibious assault by a division from the 15th Corps, a regiment of tanks and a Gurkha parachute battalion. Meanwhile, William Slim, commander of the 14th Army ordered the 4th Corps to drive south from Meiktila, while the 33rd Corps would proceed down the banks of the River Irrawaddy. Tired and outnumbered, the Japanese could provide only light resistance and the spearhead of the 4th Corps reached Toungoo, halfway to Rangoon, on 22 April 1945. (Dads 24th birthday). A week later it reached Kadok, where it was temporarily stalled by more determined resistance.
On 1 May 1945, Operation Dracula began at the mouth of the Rangoon River. With the news that the Japanese were evacuating Rangoon, the force moved up the river, entering the city the following day. The 4th Corps arrived on 6 May. With the capture of Rangoon, Burma was effectively liberated. Here dad recalled "we had help and support from the RAF patrol boats to take Rangoon"
As the Japanese withdrew throughout Burma, the horrors of the war were becoming more apparent. Dad recalled coming across a field hospital where all the doctors, nurses and unarmed patients had been murdered in their beds, in a similar way that the Alexandra hospital, Singapore had been ravaged in the 1942 invasion. Stories of the treatment of prisoners of war were filtering through as well as the plight of the thousands who died building the Thai Burma railway having been denied their Red Cross parcels.
The Japanese also had been let down by their commanders. Their general had repeatedly asked for food supplies but, with air supremacy now with the allies and the belief held by the commanders, that they would win their objective quickly and gain access to the British stores at Imphal and Dimapur proved unfounded and the promised food supplies never arrived . Many did not have the strength to navigate the jungle tracks back towards Thailand so died by the side of the road and in some instances asked their comrades to push them over the edge of the steep hillside. This must have been a dreadful sight for young men of dads age and one which I'm sure left a lasting impression on many who served.
On the 7th/8th May 45, Germany unconditionally surrendered in the East and West whilst the troops in Burma and South East Asia fought on. It was not until the bombing of Hiroshima on the 6th August 1945 and then at Nagasaki on the 9th August which pushed the Japanese to surrender. On the 14th August the Japanese agreed to surrender and on the 2nd September 1945 the Japanese official surrender was signed on the USS Missouri in Tokyo bay.
(Japanese foreign affairs minister, Mamoru Shigemitsu signing the official surrender. 2nd September 1945. General Richard Sutherland observing)
On the 14th August 45, dad was at a base camp in Rangoon where troops awaited redeployment however, he developed tropical sprue (an ulcerative condition affecting the whole of the gastrointestinal tract) and at that time, for which there was no cure. He was hospitalised and plans were made to bring him home. Dad's younger sister Grace, recalled "the Army wanted to fly him home but he refused so they put him on a boat back to England".
On the 31st October 1945, dad weighing only seven and a half stone embarked a hospital ship in Bombay. It took less time coming back to England as by then, the Suez Canal was now safe to navigate. Dad's ship docked at Liverpool on the 20th November 1945 and he was taken to Liverpool Smithdown Road Hospital (known as Sefton Park Hospital, now demolished shown below).
On the 21st January 1946, dad collapsed after hearing of the death of his father, Colston. And my Aunt Grace recalls that there were several occasions when the doctors did not expect him to survive. Fortunately, he rallied and although not well enough to attend his father's funeral, he was able to give away his sister Joyce at her wedding to Bob Beverage on the 23rd of March.
Dad would eventually give all of his sisters away, Peggy to Ron Powell, Betty to Alf Zerk and Grace to Len Connors. He would also see his brother Charles married to Dorcas. He would go on to be uncle to more than 20 nieces and nephews. Dad spent 9 months in hospital before being discharged from the Army on the 2nd August 1946.
His testimonial read "an honest, sober industrious man. He has been employed as a driver of MT (military vehicles) and has always performed his worth in an exemplary manner. Willing, capable and reliable " Character: Exemplary.
He had served for four years, 354 days.
Whilst in hospital dad asked Stella to marry him. This was always an amusing story when spoken about in later years as, when I would ask why they did not marry before dad went to Burma, Dad would reply. "Stella said no as she did not want to be a war widow. But then with a laugh would say "but said yes when I was in Liverpool hospital even though they thought I might not live"!
On the 27th September 1947 they were married at St John's church, Lodge Causeway, Bristol, with Burma friend, Walt Long as dad's best man.
They could have lived at 48 Chester Park Road, next to dad's family home. Dad's mother Lilian had saved money from dad's army salary which he had sent home and had then purchased No 48 for dad to live when he came home from Burma but mum decided she did not want to live next to the in laws so, they initially lived in a small flat on the side of a farmhouse in Severn Beach.
Dad's sister, Grace recalled "at that time he was walking around with his bible", probably shocked by his Burma experience. Stella became concerned that he was becoming increasingly isolated by a group of Plymouth brethren so, persuaded him to move back to Bristol. Given his experience and illness, it was likely that he was suffering from what we now know as "combat stress" but in the 1940's this was not treated with any relevance leaving many soldiers to deal with their experiences in their own way and often in silence.
They first rented a flat in Fishponds Road before purchasing No 42 Chester Park Road in 1957 for �1,408,18 schillings and 11 pence. The irony being, this was only two houses away from the house which dad's mother Lilian had bought for dad some 11 years earlier. Nevertheless, No 42 would remain their home for more than 40 years. With dad earning �10 a week and the mortgage was �10 a month, money was tight so, he brought home orange boxes, covered the top with spare wallpaper and then mum would make a curtain around the box. These were used as bedside tables.
Dad worked for a builder called Reg Bine and once he had completed his apprenticeship, he eventually became self employed. In the early days he had up to three men working for him but eventually he worked as a sole tradesmen. He turned his hand to anything, plumbing, building, painting and decorating and built a good reputation for himself.
He and mum became active members of St John's church where dad ran youth groups. Discoverers and carried out activities for the Church Missionary Society (CMS). I recall dad talking about one occasion when the church had organised a walk from Bristol to Wells in Somerset. Knowing that the group would be very hungry on arrival, dad went to the fish and chip shop in the market place. He always laughed when he recalled the look on the shop owners face when asked for 30 sausage and chip lots. An order though the shop fulfilled, once over the shock.
On another occasion Joan Seville (church warden) recalled. "Every morning I would come to prepare the church for the daily activities. On entering the church I always said out loud "Good Morning Lord". On this particular morning a voice came back, good morning Joan". Quite stunned by the reply she explained, "I didn't know whether I was hearing things or if I'd had some Devine intervention then suddenly Harry stood up from behind one of the pews where he had been crouched to repair some faulty pipes.
By 1956 it became apparent that mum and dad were unable to conceive children despite trips back and forth to hospital. They applied to the Bristol Diocesan for Moral Welfare and were granted permission to adopt. In 1957 they went to Devizes to adopt John (formerly Robert Dunn, mother Elsie) and in 1960 I came from Salisbury, Wiltshire, (formerly Suzanne Carter birth mother, Margaret).
Life was certainly busy and in the 1970s dad became involved with youth football teams, running a few teams called Mayfield in the Bristol Junior League. He became secretary and eventually chairman of the league, managing to persuade Wayne Jones (Bristol Rovers) and Gary Mabbut to either train the under 16 boys or, in Gary's case, present the trophies at local junior football tournaments.
After his experiences in Burma dad vowed never to go abroad again but, as the years rolled by, he broke that vow and did eventually go to Holland with a group of young footballers for a tournament but, that would be the furthest extent of his travels.
I can't imagine that the horrors of Burma were far from his mind but, he also remembered some of the more pleasant experiences. He would often call to us, "Jildi Jow, Jilldi Jow". This was Hindi for hurry up and come quickly. This he used to jolly us along whenever we were late but always with a smile.
In the mid 7'0s his sister Peggy sadly died of a brain haemorrhage and dad would suffer a heart attack in the late 70s when he would be hospitalised in the Bristol General Hospital, on bed rest, for several weeks. As a self employed builder, if you didn't work, no money came in and although dad's business survived his hospitalisation, the recession of the early 1980's would place the business in further difficulties.
At this time, when work was scarce, he somehow found a few weeks work as a film extra and would travel into Bristol every day. The film was about the trade unions and the pay �10 per day plus a meal. The film would later be shown on TV with dad wearing a flat cap in a smokey room with his close up of him for a few seconds. Each night when he got home he would relay what the filming was about but the overriding memory was dad saying "more smoke Jim" as the producer asked the scene technicians to crank up the smoke machine.
However, that was not his only TV appearance as some years later an ITV morning program wanted a decorator for one of their makeover shows. Once again dad was seen, on this occasion, putting the finishing touches to a room he had wallpapered.
In 1987 mum and dad celebrated their ruby wedding anniversary with a party at the Gloucestershire County Cricket ground and would go on to be married for fifty four years.
Dad's business would endure and it was not until he suffered a stroke in 1995, that he would finally lay up his tools at the age of 74. He was taken to Frenchay Hospital, Bristol where the doctors fought for most of the night to bring his blood pressure down. Once again he rallied and after rehabilitation to help him walk again, he became completely independent.
On 9th January that year (1995) dad would also lose his brother Charles to cancer and who I would had the great privilege of nursing on the Palliative Care Unit which was then based at Cossham Hospital in Kingswood. The chaplain to the unit was Colin Leggate, who was also the vicar at St John's church at that time. The chaplains would help to support the patients, relatives and nurses and held a monthly meeting for nursing staff to discuss the ups and downs of the past month.
On the 10th December 1996 dad joined the Burma Star Association, Bristol Branch where he finally found comradeship amongst those who had shared the same experiences. He became their welfare officer visiting Burma veterans who also wanted to join, helped organise events and attended parades and the inevitable funerals, as a guard of honour, as his ageing comrades died.
On one memorable occasion, I had identified two Burma veterans, one on my own palliative care unit and one on the ward next door. They were both keen to meet dad so a visit was arranged. For one afternoon Dick Fawcett (Royal Artillery), Laurie Barnes (Gloucesters and Wiltshire Regiment ) and dad sat reminiscing about their time in Burma. It turned out that they had all been in close proximity whilst in Burma and now, 50 years later, the three of them were once again together, but in relatively more pleasant surroundings. Following that meeting, Dick died a few months later followed by Laurie in early 2001. The Palliative Care Unit would move to a new site at Frenchay Hospital in 2000 where dad was well known to the nurses in his welfare role.
Dad died peacefully in the same hospital.
His funeral was held at St John's church where he had spent so many years. His coffin flanked by a guard of honour from the Bristol branch of the Burma Star Association both in the church and the graveside at Mangotsfield Cemetery, Downend where, he was buried a few rows away from his brother Charles.
The association honoured him further by publishing a tribute to him in their magazine. It read "It is with the deepest regret that we have to announce the death of our Welfare Officer, Harry Hopton. Harry had been a conscientious Welfare Officer for the Bristol Branch for the past two years. Quiet and unassuming, few people knew of his background or his service career. He recently lent me a copy of his autobiography he was in the process of writing, so I could write an article for this newsletter. Perhaps too late, but I feel I owe it to Harry to tell you a little about some of the things he wrote - in particular his days in Burma. He served at Kohima with the RASC but rarely made reference to the fact. There he saw war at its worst, and his description of the fighting there leaves you in no doubt about his feelings."
The tribute goes on to recall the horrors of the battle of Kohima and then continues " I make no apology for relating these details of the carnage at Kohima, and the barbaric actions of some of the Japanese. War is a vicious and brutal situation which sometimes brings out the worst in man - and often the best. Harry saw it all with his own eyes...... he didn't read about it in a book which can easily be put aside - he was there. And yet he remained strong in his own faith despite having seen mans inhumanity to man. And that's why you will be greatly missed, Harry, because you went out of your way to help your fellow man. That's why we wanted you to be our Welfare Officer. One final reference to Harry's days in Burma. After Kohima he went on attachment to the Royal Welsh Fusiliers for an assault on a 5000ft hill and writes "As we started up the hill one lad shouted "Come on Taffy, let's have Bread of Heaven! and all around me in beautiful harmony, men began to sing, Guide me of they great Jehovah. When we got to the top, the Japs had all gone" "Harry needed no guidance to reach the top of his final hill, his faith would have taken him there"
