The Dunkirk Harriers - The tales we tell children

This story has been brought to you through "Story-telling Sunday" invented by Sian Fromhighinthesky  Why not pop over there after you have read my story and see all the other stories.



This handsome man is My Beloved Grandfather, and when i was somewhere around the age of 14,15ish I had the great pleasure to live with my grandparents, as I was in the middle of my exam years and the school near where mum and my WSD had moved didn't do the subjects i was taking, so have a sensible mum she decided it was better to inflict me on her poor parents(JOKE).  I was a much loved and spoilt only granddaughter, :).




Any way back to the point of the story, my grandfather though beloved was a bit of a wind up merchant and enjoyed nothing more than telling me tall tales, that I usually realised were tall tales, at some point during the telling of the tale, and would berate him for telling me tales, but secretly I loved them.


However there was one tale that I carried with me as the Gospel truth until I was at least 19 years old and this is the tale I am about to relate to you today on Storytelling Sunday as it is here in the UK April Fools Day I thought it appropriate.
My grandfather was a member of the Royal Monmouthshire Royal Engineers a fact that I have always been immensely proud, and one day he was busy in his workshop at the bottom of the garden setting his medals into a picture frame, as i loved watching him work with wood, I took my usual seat on a box to watch, the medals were shining in the sunlight and soon curiosity got the better of me and I started asking Granddad questions about what he was doing and taking an interest in the various medals he was arranging, one in particular caught my eye as it had a beautiful Purple and Yellow ribbon, which were my favourite colours, "this one is my favourite one Granddad " I said "what is it for?"   "Ah that one is my Dunkirk Harriers Medal, I got that for the 100 yard dash, we all got one" he said simply.  There it was a simple statement, but taken by me as the truth, and anyone that came to my grandparents house and admired the medals in their frame, I proudly told everyone that my favourite one was the one with the purple and yellow ribbon as that was granddads Dunkirk Harriers Medal and this went on until some cousins from America came to visit my grandparents and were looking at the family photos and my cousin spotted Granddads medals and I launched in to my tale of my favourite medal (please note that I am about 19 by this time) and my cousin looked at me with quite a shocked if not stunned expression and turned to my granddad and said " you were at Dunkirk !  Oh man that must have been intense"  (he was American) my grandfather just smiled and said "it was a busy day lad"  - Much later that day when my cousin was in the garden having a sly cigarette, I asked him as nonchalantly as I could, what was intense about Dunkirk, to which he explained to a very shocked me, the story of Dunkirk and what had happened out there, to say that I was cross, was an understatement, he might have survived Dunkirk but He was going to get it both barrels from me, but when I confronted my Granddad and told him I knew the truth, and that I was cross with him for not telling me how important the medal was, he simply smiled and said that the only reason the medal was important to him  was because I liked it, and because I would always remember the Dunkirk Harriers when ever I saw it.

My Grandfather was always my hero, he taught me all the important things a girl should know, how to fire a gun safely, how to change a tyre, and check a vehicles oil, and never to take anything you are told at face value.
I consider my self a very lucky person to have known my grandparents as well as I did, and I treasure the memories and the things they taught me, have served me well.