Wanting to recognise the 81st anniversary of D Day and my father, Roy's, part in that, I thought I should photograph the medals that have been entombed in a cigarette box as long as I can remember.
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As is usually the case these days, I ended up more confused than enlightened.
Roy was never in Italy or Africa so it seems likely that these medals were awarded to Brenda's stepfather, Frank Roberts (who served in the Eighth Army) . The medal on the far left acknowledges service as a Special Constable, which could have been Roy's father Harry (the most handsome man in North London according to my Gran).
The medals below relate to the Great War, where Harry was in reserved employment (making armaments at Woolwich, I think) and cut a very fine figure on a horse in the Home Guard.
I thought the Great War ended in 1918.
I will return the medals to the Player's box and leave it to Helen and Lucy to investigate further or not. At least they don't smoke!
I later recalled that Roy told me that he never applied for his service medals.
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As it happens I rediscovered "The Mexican Suitcase" that Helen gave to me some years ago.
It catalogues the photographs of Robert Capa (and others) of the Spanish Civil War and was left in a hotel in Mexico, perhaps by Capa, en route to Bolivia.
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