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Marcia Williams on My Secret War Diary by Flossie Albright
My Secret War Diary follows on from Archie's War, My Scrapbook of the First World War by Archie Albright. It's a diary of WWII kept by his daughter, Flossie Albright.
The photograph of Archie, on the front cover of his scrapbook is my great uncle and was taken of him, dressed in his dad’s army uniform, during WWI. He then grew up to join the army himself and fight in WWII. Sadly, he was killed on his first day of active service.
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This family story made me wonder what might have happened to Archie if he had stayed in Dorset, where we leave him at the end of his scrapbook, grown up, got married and had his own family. He could never have imagined that his daughter, Flossie, would wave him off to fight in WWII, just as he had waved his own father off to fight in WWI … and so Flossie’s Secret War Diary began.
When I started Flossie's Secret War Diary I was concerned that it should not be a repeat of Archie’s scrapbook, but I need not have worried. Flossie had a mind of her own and although like her dad in strength and humour, she is very much her own person and has a great deal to say as rationing, gas masks, bombs, chilblains, gum-chewing Yanks and the threat of an enemy invasion become a part of her daily life. Some days she copes brilliantly, on others it wasn’t just the bombs that exploded!
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Flossie, unlike her father who was based in the East End of London during WWI, was living in Dorset, which was a centre of much activity during WWII. Not only could Flossie see the arrival and departure of war and troop ships in Weymouth harbour, she also saw planes set off from local airfields, dog fights across the channel, troop movements through Dorchester, the arrival of the evacuees and the American soldiers.
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My own family lived in Dorset during the war; so many of the stories come from them or from their friends. Nearly all the photographs and other war memorabilia come from my own family albums. The photographs of Flossie are my aunt and her mother is my grandmother, the Africa Star medal was awarded to my own mother who is now ninety-three years old and still remembers those days vividly.
Of course, not all the stories are family stories, some other sources were the Dorset archives and the Imperial War Museum, but I hope that the personal nature of this book helps to give it relevance and accessibility.
The story of WWII and all the major events are told, but through Flossie’s own narrative, through newspaper cuttings, flaps and letters and I think that in this way it not only takes on a more powerful reality, but also a humanity that may not be found in a list of war facts. As Flossie might say, “I hope it’s a flipping good read,” as well as doing justice to all the men, women and children who fought to bring us peace.
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