In The Dreaming

In the dreaming...

The recent trip of my brother Peter to the battlefields of Europe and particularly to Greece and Crete in the footsteps of my father (Jimmy 2/7th Battalion, 6th Division, 2nd AIF, see comments below ) awakened in me thoughts of my long dead father Jimmy Condliffe (1919-1959) a man I only have sketchy recall of. Fragmented moments and disjointed pictures are my only remembrance of him.

His presence though  has been a strong influence in my life not only because he fathered me but his abrupt death when I was seven had an immediate devastating impact on myself,  my three brothers and my incredibly young mother Alice, twenty eight at the time. His presence was always there in the family, Mum's recollections were always hard drawn and reluctantly given the pain and anguish of a life and future never fulfilled causing a wound that never healed. But when she did make them she spoke with passion and love of a man who was so central to her being that she never forgave God for taking him away.

Of course the recollections  of extended family of a man who was co-author in your creation but who I did not know were confusing and mostly bitter sweet. The comparisons they made between the lost father and his sons were like-wise like a double edged sword to us who did not know the one we were being compared with but lived in and were part of his shadow.

Living in the shadow of a man I did not know was uncomfortable sometimes and could have become a crutch and a weight. But luckily for me, my brothers and Mum (to some extent) we were able to move out from under  and into the sunshine making a go and success of life.

I think of my dad nearly every day and often wonder what we would talk about if we met!

In the Dreaming there will be a place where we will will meet, drinking, eating and talking of our lives . There will be no talk of war only the memory of it. I will listen to Jimmy's soft words of pain and loss but mostly we will talk of children and family, fishing and football, towns and characters. In this place we will celebrate that which was taken away and that what was given, life itself the mystery of it all. And we will be at peace. Thanks Dad Love You.

 

 

 

John Condliffe shared Peter Condliffe's post.
November 29 at 9:19am ·








Peter Condliffe

November 29 ·



Nafplio, Greece...fishing and dreaming at the place where many of the second Anzacs, British and Greek troops disembarked/retreated to Crete in WW2/1941.



 
 






John Condliffe shared Peter Condliffe's post.
November 29 at 9:19am ·








Peter Condliffe-Facebook

November 27 at 4:08pm ·



Dear family and friends
The names are unfamiliar and subject to that particular Greek penchant for loosely applied spelling - Hania;42nd Street;Souda Bay;Gegiop...olio;Vryes;Hora Safigion and others. We have made the pilgrimage in the footsteps of our Dad and grandfather and cried openly and inwardly as we saw the places Jimmy had been in Crete. They were places of great natural beauty in a sometimes stark and brutal topography. The hardships and the difficulties encountered by the Allied troops in 1941 (the second Anzacs) became so apparent in a battle that so easily could have been won and where so many died. The locals fought and died as well against the Nazi paratroopers. The heartbreak as my Dads unit, the 2/7 (one of the few units to keep its formation to the end), a part of the rear guard , made its way down the steep slopes to evacuation, after days of fighting as part of the rearguard, only to be denied by the vagaries of war and the inability of the navy to get more ships in. Then the long and arduous march back over the mountains with little water and food as captives now of the Germans.
It has been the culmination of a wonderful trip and more so because Zoe and Emma could be here to share the journey following in the footsteps of Jimmy and the 2/7.
Lest we forget the futility and waste of war.