My grandfather, Peter Dudley Fellowes Flavelle died back in
January 2018 aged 95 and was a remarkable man in many respects. He was an avid
sportsman (former footballer with Oadby Town; passionate golfer – with a
handicap of 2; and a crack shot to boot). He was an excellent ukulele player, an outspoken advocate for
protecting the countryside and recycling (decades before it was cool to do so)
and an ardent believer in multi-culturalism and free-movement. He adored cars
and motoring in general, working first for his uncle, Billy Goddard’s company
in Oadby and later for Bentley Engineering where he helped produce
anti-aircraft guns for the War and later rode on Speedway. One of his favourite
stories to tell was of his Uncle Joe shipping his car over from America in the mid-1920s
and the whole family piling into it and zooming all over the Leicestershire
countryside. He was bright, sparky and his dry wit and twinkle made him a real pleasure
to be around.
Grandad with his Ukulele
This post, however, is not really about Peter’s rich and
full life but what made him live one. A man, who was eager to seize each day it
became clear as the family came together to write his eulogy that
his whole outlook on life was shaped by the shadow of the Great War.
Grandad with his bunny Wilfred
Born in May 1922 in Oadby, Leicester to Doris (nee Goddard) and Herbert Flavelle, just two years after the League of Nations had been set up, in the
years of hope that nothing as destructive as the Great War could ever happen
again. Like many families, the Great War had brought its own personal tragedies
for Doris and Herbert, not just for its duration but in the years that
followed.
Herbert Flavelle (Machine Gun Corps)
Herbert (himself a Great War veteran and gunner in the
Machine Gun Corps) had lost his brother, David in 1915 when he died of gangrene
in the military hospital at Rouen aged 26. The death of this twinkling handsome
older brother had a significant effect on Herbert, who never talked of his
experiences on the Western Front but talked often of his brother, the avid
cricketer who was killed in his prime. Indeed, Peter would go on to call his
own son David in the 1950s.
David Fellows Flavell (1890-1915), Royal Leicestershire Regiment
Though the loss of David no doubt hit the family hard, it
was Doris herself who had more first-hand experience of the destructive nature
of conflict, seeing at first hand brothers and cousins return broken and
mutilated from the Western Front and dying from the wounds that they suffered
whilst in service.
Stanley Martin Goddard (1893-1921), RGA
Firstly, her brother, Stanley Martin Goddard, signed up in
1915 to fight as a gunner in the Royal Garrison Artillery. A former policeman,
he died in 1921 aged 28 of wounds sustained in action leaving his wife Annie a
widow with a young son, Stan.
First Battle of Ypres
Doris’ cousin, Ernest William Matthews, a short man (5’3”)
with brown eyes and auburn hair was severely wounded at the First Battle of
Ypres in October 1914. He suffered a gunshot wound to his left hip which led to
the suppuration of the right hip. An operation to both hips was a success, but
left him with a shorter right leg and reliant on crutches. He would die in 1917
back in Leicestershire aged 27.
Noel Goddard (1898-1932), Royal Tank Corps
Tank at the Battle of Cambrai
A further cousin of hers, Noel Goddard, a haulage contractor
and boot clicker from Oadby, was a driver in the Royal Tank Corps and badly
wounded in the Battle of Cambrai. Though he survived his injuries, he would die
aged 34 in 1932, ironically at the armistice hour in Leicester Royal Infirmary.
Doris Flavelle c. 1930
Doris and her children c. 1928
These experiences shaped Doris for life – she was, after all,
in her early twenties during the Great War and her brother and cousins lived in the
streets nearby her home. A warm and loving mother to Peter and his sister, Pat,
she raised them in the spirit of international co-operation and the hope that
such an atrocity would not be repeated. Combined with his close relationship
with his maiden aunts (Sally, Minnie, Louie and Elsie – who lost sweethearts in
the conflict – and whose names are sadly lost to us – only their photos remain)
it is not hard to see where my grandfather’s zest for life and his carpe diem
attitude came from. As he always said to me, life is for the living – as long
as you have some money to live on, go and do what you want to do. And that's a pretty good motto to live by I think.
Grandad with his sister, Pat and his Aunt Minnie
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