Let’s Get Creative

Local author, Cathy Farr is hosting another Creative Writing Day on 10th July in Dinas Powys.

Following the success of previous workshops over the last two years, Cathy will be welcoming budding writers to spend the day enjoying a host of practical writing activities that really will get those creative muscles going.

The sessions are inspired by the workshops and tutorials that Cathy attended when she was doing creative writing as part of her degree with the Open University. After achieving a 2.1 honours, Cathy has spent the past eight years developing her own teaching material as well as writing novels, and regularly hosts writing workshops in the Vale, as well as in schools.

‘The day is ideal for people who are interested in doing some creative writing but don’t really know where to start,’ says Cathy, author of six novels for children and adults. ‘You don’t have to be planning to write a novel; some people come simply to have a go at doing something a bit different.’

Cathy with her Irish
Wolfhound pups – the
breed that inspires her
writing.

Cathy’s main aim in these workshops is to give people the chance to let their own imagination do the work and to have some fun, too. Positive comments from people who have attended previous workshops include: ‘It was enjoyable, fun and really interesting. Your teaching methods enthused us all I think, they certainly did me, along with the wonderful character you brought to it, that is Cathy Farr!’

Cathy gives as much constructive feedback as possible during the day, which means that places are limited so early booking is advised. The workshop will be held on Wednesday, 10th July, 10.30a.m. to 3.30p.m. in the Lee Hall at the Parish Hall in the centre of Dinas Powys and the price is £45 including tea and coffee throughout the day. For more information and to book your place contact Cathy at cathy@bitebooks.co.uk or on 02920 511031.

 



 

Ron Jones’ story ‘The Auschwitz Goalkeeper’.

Those of us who gathered to hear the harrowing accounts of Ron Jones’ experience during World War II, would agree, that it was a privilege. This gentle man and natural story teller had seen and suffered things that no person should ever experience when he was taken Prisoner of War in January 1942 and kept in Auschwitz for two years.

The stories however, also served to remind us of Ron’s resilience, good humour and respect for people – qualities which undoubtedly contributed to his survival during the war and his recovery afterwards.

The story unfolded as Ron, at 101 years old, stood to talk to his audience for almost an hour. Born in Rogerstone to an industrial blacksmith and a tailoress, Ron’s father insisted he left school at 14 and follow him into the steel industry. Being in a reserved occupation, Ron would have avoided active service in World War II, had it not been for a mistake made by a typist at Guest Keen Works.

After training with the South Wales Borderers, Ron was posted to Egypt in August 1941 and captured in January 1942. He spent eight months in appalling conditions in a POW camp at Alta Mura in southern Italy; covered with lice, freezing cold at night and reliant on Red Cross parcels for survival. With conditions so bad, a few hundred of the POWs offered to work. They were put on a passenger train, thinking they were heading for Milan. When the train stopped, they were in the Brenner Pass and were handed over to the Germans. It was August 1943. They were loaded onto cattle trucks; the destination was Auschwitz. Approaching the camp they saw men in striped pyjamas digging trenches in the freezing cold. Ron said: ‘They were all bound for the gas chambers; we were looking at dead men walking. We had arrived at our final destination, in more ways than one’.

Cigarettes were currency in Auschwitz. By giving the guards some, the British POWs were allowed out into the field to play football every Sunday. When the Red Cross realised this, they brought footballs and shirts in the colours of the home nations. Ron’s mother had taught him to sew and he decided to use his skills to embroider the Prince of Wales feathers onto the Welsh shirts, using thread from old socks.

With the Russians advancing into Poland, the

German guards forced Ron and the other POWs to march towards the Austrian border. In what became known as The Long March or The Death March, the POWs trudged wearily for 17 weeks, with little or no food and sleeping in fields in temperatures as low as minus 25 degrees. Some six hundred miles were covered. Two hundred and sixty men soon became less than a hundred. Ron remembers the time when he ate a raw chicken. ‘It was lovely’ he said.

When liberated from a barn by US forces, Ron weighed 7 stone (half his original weight), was covered in lice and sick when he ate anything. ‘But I was still alive’, he said. In May 1945, Ron returned home to his dear wife Gwladys and to a community which supported his long road to recovery. ‘It took me four of five years before I was back to normal again’.

Ron joined the Royal Legion after he retired and worked tirelessly to raise money through the selling of poppies .

Our thanks are to Ron for sharing his experiences with us and to the Friends of Wenvoe Library for organising what is hopefully the first of many ‘Meet the Author’ evenings.

Read all of Ron Jones’ story in ‘The Auschwitz Goalkeeper’.

 



 

A Love Story by Maureen Richards

True Love

by Maureen Richards

Sitting quietly on a rocking chair in the corner of the old farmhouse kitchen, resting her weary bones, Beatrice warmed her cold calloused weathered hands, near the log burning stove. The candlelight fell gently across the room, catching a glimpse of her ageing frame.

Although time had fetched its cruel grooves of life experiences onto this beautiful face and the long hair that once hung like ebony silk now grew with strands of silver and gold was drawn neatly back into a bun held with a pretty clip. She could still turn heads. Her eyes, the deepest ocean blue, still held the charm, kindness and love that once captured the hearts of many a young handsome soldier, hadn’t changed at all with time.

As she sat, her eyes closed and the warmth flowing around her like a thick woollen blanket, her thoughts led her back to the many bitter sweet memories that this time of year held for her …

There he stood by the kitchen range, his uniform pristine, the gold buttons glistened in the early winter sunlight breaking through the small leaded window. How dashing he looked, his thick brown hair groomed and his brown eyes had a twinkle of devilment. His face framed with a beard well trimmed and clipped. His smile, “Oh, his smile” sighed Beatrice. How perfect. How handsome. Although he had the air of an officer, she also knew his gentleness, his love, his devotion to her. Her man, her soldier!

They were too young, everyone said, but they were in love. They knew this was True Love, deep strong and lasting a life time. In secret they got engaged. This sealed their love. They knew things were changing war was looming. Soon he would be called for duty. Their stolen hours of love spent in each others arms would sustain their parting. His orders arrived, he had to go.

At the station along with hundreds of families and armed forces Beatrice was held tightly in his arms. His body trembled, he couldn’t speak. Beatrice stifled a sob from deep inside her. Why must there be wars? All this emotion, the wrench from loved ones arms. All so young. All so brave! Finally, as Beatrice looked deep into her dearest Edward’s eyes she whispered, “bring yourself back to my arms and our ‘Love Child’”. He was ecstatic, their stolen hours of love had borne fruit. This gave this handsome soldier a feeling of completeness. He was so proud, he would be the perfect father. His darling Beatrice would be a perfect mother and in the meantime, she had a little of him with her until his return. Oh! How they wished war was over so they would be together a complete family.

The months trickled by. How she missed him! His letters from the front encouraged her, as no doubt her were to him. Her family were wonderful, their love and support helped her to cope. Her time was near for the birth of their ‘heavens blessing’. She longed for Edward to be with her at the baby's arrival. He tried desperately to get compassionate leave but the intensity at the front had increased in magnitude.

Many a soldier longing for home and peace knew this would only be achieved by determination and bravery.

Holding her beautiful baby girl in her arms she gazed at her all night. She was adorable, thick brown hair like Edwards and deep ocean blue eyes of Beatrice. Her new grandparents were so proud. With just a glimpse of this new arrival, their hearts were bursting with joy. If only Edward as here, Beatrice would ask him to name her. They hadn’t decided, not knowing whether a boy or girl. At that moment baby stirred. Cradling her close baby was fed. Beatrice cuddled baby all night.

She watched the candle flicker its light around the room gradually diminishing with the hours.

Suddenly a voice she had longed to hear whispered “My darling Beatrice, she is beautiful. Please call her Edith my little Edie. I am proud of you. She has the beauty of her mother. My Beatrice, I love you”. His face gently brushed hers as he left a gentle kiss on her lips. She watched as he walked towards the kitchen range still alight keeping the room warm. He turned and smiled, blew a kiss, then was gone. Had she imagined it? Her dearest Edward here with her?

Thew next morning Beatrice announced to her parents her baby's name, Edith and repeated what she had heard from Edward, “ my little Edie”. After that special night Edward’s letters stopped coming. Beatrice grew more worried every day that passed. Her parents could only support her and pray. Days turned to weeks, weeks into months, little Edie flourished. Beatrice was such a good mother, loyal, attentive and so protective. How she loved her! But Beatrice parents could also see their daughters heart breaking longing for news of Edward, they saw the sparkle in her eyes grow dim. This perfect mother slowly dying inside. She always put her baby first, she was the reason for living. Beatrice worked hard on their farm and any spare time she spent making bread, cakes and pies, depending oon supplies and sold them in the village store, they were a great success.

Little Edith’s extended family adored her. Grandparents took her for walks and visits to relations daily, her little life was idyllic. But at night when the house was still and silent Beatrice waiting for Edward’s return.

Occasionally she would see him standing, as she remembered by the kitchen range smiling at her. So young, so handsome. Held out his arms to her, but she couldn’t leave with him, she must stay with her little Edith. She promised love and protect her forever. This she did. This was how they found her sitting in her rocking chair near the kitchen range. Her heart broken but a gentle smile remained upon her lips.

Many times on the cold winter’s nights villagers reported seeing Beatrice sitting by her kitchen range warming her hands, in her old rocking chair waiting for her Edward’s return from war. She never did leave the old farmhouse or broke her promise to little Edith.

 

How she loved them both, so completely.

 



 

 

Thicker Than Water

BethanBookWenvoe resident, Bethan Darwin, has a new novel out. This is Bethan’s third novel, and came out on 18 August 2016.

It is called Thicker than Water and is set both in 1926 and present day. The 1926 story is about Idris, a miner from the Rhondda who is disillusioned by the collapse of the General Strike and decides to emigrate to Ontario, Canada. Just before he leaves, his sister in law Maggie has a favour to ask of him.

The present day story is about corporate lawyer Gareth, who lives in Penarth and has a pretty good life – his own law firm, a high flying wife who is also a corporate lawyer, and four children. But then he gets instructed to do some legal work for Canadian clothing company Perfect which is considering opening for business in Wales and things start to change for Gareth.

Bethan has lived in Clos Llanfair, Wenvoe for ten years. Her husband David Thompson grew up in the village. Their children Caleb 17 and Megan 11 attend Bro Morgannwg school in Barry

Bethan and David are both solicitors, and work together in a small firm in Cardiff. Bethan also writes a column every fortnight for the business section of the Western Mail and regularly reviews the newspapers for various programmes on BBC Radio Wales.

She says “It’s a bit of a juggle writing novels round a full time job and a family. I often joke that as a result I’ve got a big bum and a dirty house!”

You can find Thicker than Water and Bethan’s other novels in libraries or online. If you prefer to buy books in a bookstore, they will be able to order them for you if they don’t have them in stock. Bethan warns that there is some plot related sex in her books, but also plenty of history and gardening.

She will be discussing Thicker than Water with Jamie Owen on his radio show on Sunday 28 August from 11am.