An Unnamed Friend, A Complicated Relationship

In this newspaper clipping, there are three lads at the front of the photo. In the middle is my father, George Brundell. To the right of him is a lad he trained with, a sniper. He was killed, shot, three days after they arrived at the front, and my father could never remember his name.

My father was on the trackers with the Royal Highland Infantry. When they were training in Scotland, they used to take anti-aircraft guns with them in case Germans flew overhead. My mother was also stationed near him; she was Scottish. I heard my father tell stories about German POWs kept on Bute.

I wasn't like my father; I was a pushover and couldn't bring myself to ever fight. I was scared I would kill someone.

This story was shared during an in-person interview at a Digital Collection Day. A transcription of the interview is attached to this record.