"Never in the face of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few." - Winston Churchill

Erik,
     Just a little time-out from the usual post.  November 11 is Veteran's Day in the US and Remembrance Day in the UK.  We've had a number of veterans in our family, on Momma and Poppa's sides of the family, so this is to honor them and their sacrifice.
                                                                                                                 Mom

     "Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day or Armistice Day) is a memorial day observed in Commonwealth countries since the end of World War I to remember the members of their armed forces who have died in the line of duty. Remembrance Day is observed on 11 November, to recall the end of hostilities of World War I on that date in 1918. Hostilities formally ended "at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month," in accordance with the Armistice, signed by representatives of Germany and the Entente between 5:12 and 5:20 that morning. ("At the 11th hour" refers to the passing of the 11th hour, or 11:00 a.m.) World War I officially ended with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on 28 June 1919.
     The day was specifically dedicated by King George V on 7 November 1919, as a day of remembrance for members of the armed forces who were killed during World War I. 
     The red remembrance poppy has become a familiar emblem of Remembrance Day due to the poem 'In Flanders Fields'. These poppies bloomed across some of the worst battlefields of Flanders in World War I, their brilliant red colour an appropriate symbol for the blood spilled in the war."                           --from Wikipedia

        "Your great-grandfather, Joseph Shelton (Poppa's Dad), fought in WWI in 1917, where he was mustard-gased at Ypres, Belgium.  He did not regain consciousness until back in England.  He survived the war.  He had a half-brother, John Henry Oscroft, who was killed in action in France in 1918.  He is buried in France.
      Your great-great-grandfather, Charles Langford, who was drafted or enlisted at the age of 37, fought in WWI, survived the war, only to die of the Spanish flu in 1920.  You have another great-great-grandfather, William Bradley, who fought in and survived the Crimean War (1853-1856).
     Your great-uncles, Les Rossiter and Noel (Nobby) Inman, two of Momma's brother-in-laws, also served during WWII--Les in the Navy and Nobby in the Infantry in France.  Both survived."                      
                                                             Mom

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous.

                              It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
                                                                                                        ~Elizabeth Stone

Erik,
     Before you read this, you might want to go back to the September 25, 2011 post, "Love and Marriage."  This post will pick up where that one left off, with the birth of Maureen in 1950.  Enjoy!
                                                                                                                                                       
                                                                                                                       Mom


     "We were married Saturday, June 28th., 1947, 10 am, at St. Mary's Church, Arnold.  Since it was just after the end of the war, there were no houses available or even rooms to rent, so we lived with Momma and Pop (Frank's parents) for the first nine months of our marriage, and then the next 18 months in my sister Win's back bedroom.  We had our name on a housing list with the local council. It was one happy day when a man from the council came to the door with keys for an allocated council house."
                                                                                                         --Joan Shelton

Bit of history:  "In post–World War II Britain, a housing shortage was increased through the use during the war, by both sides, of carpet bombing from great altitudes.  The destruction caused by this had a huge effect on both the number and quality of available housing stock.  Estimates at the time suggest that the minimum shortage was some 200,000 houses nationally.  The result was the duplication of a strategy deployed by the post–World War I government of a country-wide investment program in a national public house building scheme.  Council houses were built and operated by local councils (governments) to supply uncrowded, well-built homes at reasonable rents."

Typical post WW 11 council houses

      "At that time I was pregnant with Maureen; just prior to
Christmas, 1949, we moved into our new house.  Frank and Pop spent one whole week scrubbing out the house and making it habitable; Frank and I spent a day in Nottingham buying most of the furnishings; my sister, Win, sat and sewed drapes for all the windows.  When we spent our first night under our very own roof, I was ecstatic!
     Maureen was born February 23, 1950, at 10:30 a.m.  Frank had left for work about 7 a.m., when I realized that my water had broken, so I slipped my coat on over my nightdress and managed to walk down two streets to my sister Mick's house, leaning over the low stone walls every time I felt a contraction.  We didn't have phones.  Mick walked back home with me, while her husband, Nobby, rode his bike to fetch the midwife.
     It was voting day for the general election, and Nurse Billington decided she would go and vote before visiting me.  When she did finally arrived, I delivered Maureen shortly thereafter.  Maureen weighed 6 1/2 pounds, a beautiful, healthy baby.  In those days, most babies were born at home with just a midwife attending.  If they're were complications, the mother was rushed to the hospital.
     Momma and Pop gave us one of those huge English prams, and we walked miles pushing Maureen in her pram.  She was an easy baby, always laughing and cooing.  She soon began to gain weight, was walking at one year old.  When she began to talk, the funniest thing I remember her saying when she was hungry was, 'I shant shom more.'"
   

Maureen in her pram, a gift from Momma and Pop
 (Frank's Mam and Dad)

     

 

One of many trips with Maureen to the coast

   












   









      "When Maureen was about two years old she would trot down two streets to Aunty Mick's house to see her daughter Sharon.  In those days it was safe to let children outside on their own; neighbors would see her and ask where she was going and make sure she got there.
     Mick always called Maureen 'my gal'; I think she felt a closeness to Maureen because she was there in the room when Maureen was born.



     When Maureen was about two and a half years old, we bought the motorcycle and then had the sidecar made to fit.  We had it about two years and would go all over England on it.  Maureen would ride in the sidecar surrounded with blankets and whatever else we took on vacations.  One time we rode to Saint Ives in Cornwall. Molly rode down on the train and spent a week camping with us."               --Joan Shelton