This handsome lad was my grandfather, pictured about the age of 18. There is a strong likeness between him and my father and makes me wish I had seen more photos of my dad at the same age.
He fought in the first World War over in France, or rather his job was to take supplies up to the front line during the hours of darkness using mules. Legend has it that he once got into terrible trouble when he lit a fire under a stubborn mule to get it moving - it did the trick!
I've never heard anything good about Thomas, which is very sad and although I never met him, I'm loathed to believe that he didn't have some redeeming qualities. I'm more inclined to believe that circumstances shaped his life and made him the person he is remembered for. He didn't have an easy time of it.
At fourteen he was working in a factory when without warning the floor suddenly gave way (he was on the second floor) and disappeared into an old mine shaft. It was only because he had the presence of mind to cling on to the wall that he lived to tell the tale. Having survived the First World War, physically unscathed, he came home and married Selina Proffitt. Baby Alice soon arrived, followed by Tommy. Tommy, the first son and named after his father. He died aged three, having caught pneumonia after tipping a bucket of freezing cold water over himself while staying at the house of his aunt and uncle. My father, Pryce, born in 1928, was named after a long succession of Pryce's on his mother's side, but all with the surname of Bliss and originally from Monmouthshire in Wales. Then sisters Fanny Winifred (Nance) and Selina, the youngest.
Thomas worked as a 'Jointer', which meant he was responsible for laying town sewage pipes over the whole of the country and was rarely at home. Money was so tight that Selina had to get a job making washers in a factory and when my father passed to go to the local grammar school, he was unable to go as there was no money to buy the uniform. Selina contracted TB and died two weeks before war was declared in September 1939, she was only 36.
The children survived by staying with various relatives, all of who lived quite close, including grandparents who lived two doors away. One set of aunt and uncle were both deaf and dumb and while staying there my dad learned to sign. It's really not surprising that Thomas turned to drink for solace...
During the summer of 1941, my father was sent to a farm for a holiday and at the end of the time had proved himself so useful, the farmer, 'Reader' was reluctant for him to return to school. So at the age of 13 and a half, he found himself working all hours. Apparently the authorities did write and demand that my father return to school until the legal age of 14 when he could leave, but this was war time and they never followed it up. He was allowed home one a month, but as there was no one really left at home and the journey took so long, he gave up returning and virtually lost contact with his sisters for a very long time.
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