My Uncle, Ken .E. Webb after who I am named and hence writing this in my birth name rather than my author name, wrote many letters home.
WE ARRIVED on Friday, October 6, 1967. We departed on Monday, January 27, 2017 as the keys turned twice one final time. I turned and surveyed the scene at which I had gasped fifty years earlier. The smoothness of the engine eased my mind. I will away… …
EVEN as a boy, the drawbridge was a vital part in my defences when laying out the battlefields on the carpet …
IT IS TIME to change direction, to change platforms, and settle down to the final journey. I’ve no idea how long the train journey is, but I’ve a very comfortable window seat … …
I LOVE BOOKS. I adore the printed word. …
This beautiful opening image is by Pierre Bamin via Unsplash. It superbly captures the essence of Windsor Street Days.
Temporarily live, only … unfinished … unproofed
Christmas Morning 1958 - “Remembering the questions you have asked me dear.”
St Peter’s Church, Tewkesbury Road, Cheltenham … that first tentative step into peace-time … Saturday, April 2, 1949 … a new family Webb and Marshall
Arthur Horace James Webb, aged 18 months at Eyford Lodge, Eyford Park 1916
Grandmother, Mother, Eldest Son … a study of just one social aspect of the Great War - the absence of Fathers, Husbands and Brothers
Kenneth Ernest Webb (Kenneth .E. Webb) aged 20, at RAF Training School, South Coast, England 1941. The portrait is in pastel by the Artist Hicks
Horace and Isabel Webb and Ken (7) and Des (18 mth), with their edlest son Arthur (14) taking the photograph
The first flight from the Nest
Pte Frank Ewart Marshall Devonshire Regiment, the author’s maternal grandfather
