52 Ancestors Week 2 - Photograph - A Love Story
A photograph may well be the reason for my existence.
In 1948, recently returned from post-war Germany, my dad was looking for a job. The opportunities in South West Scotland for a qualified mechanic who had serviced tanks up through Europe were limited, if non-existent.
Around the same time, my mother had finally found her feet in Trentham, near Wellington, New Zealand after an unsettled couple of years. She had a stable job, but more importantly secure accommodation by joining the NZ Women's Royal Army Corps in 1946.
Around this time, the New Zealand Government resolved to form a permanent, peacetime army. In the United Kingdom, there were thousands of suitable young men with the right qualifications and war experience who would be ideal instructors, looking for a new life away from rationing and unemployment. What was needed was a recruitment brochure. And as you know, what better way to attract young men, than a picture of a young woman!
My mother just happened to be in the Trentham Camp Library on the day the photographer arrived. Would she mind being in the photo for the section on culture and continuing education? Now, my mother would never have said she was model material. She was 5'8" which in 1948 was quite tall for a woman and she was a dairy farmer's daughter, if you know what I mean. Her polished black boots, khaki trousers and shirt, plus a corps beret in her epaulette weren't exactly runway-ready - well, not for a fashion runway! The photo of my mother looking at a book was duly snapped.
Some months later, my father was sent the brochure, interviewed at New Zealand House in London and was on his way to a new life, much to his mother's disappointment. He sailed on the "Atlantis" from Southampton and arrived in Wellington in May 1949. At Easter 1950, my parents were engaged and just before Christmas they were married.
It was a standing joke that Dad had come to find the girl in the brochure. It's probably not true, but is a good story.
In 1948, recently returned from post-war Germany, my dad was looking for a job. The opportunities in South West Scotland for a qualified mechanic who had serviced tanks up through Europe were limited, if non-existent.
Around the same time, my mother had finally found her feet in Trentham, near Wellington, New Zealand after an unsettled couple of years. She had a stable job, but more importantly secure accommodation by joining the NZ Women's Royal Army Corps in 1946.
Around this time, the New Zealand Government resolved to form a permanent, peacetime army. In the United Kingdom, there were thousands of suitable young men with the right qualifications and war experience who would be ideal instructors, looking for a new life away from rationing and unemployment. What was needed was a recruitment brochure. And as you know, what better way to attract young men, than a picture of a young woman!
My mother just happened to be in the Trentham Camp Library on the day the photographer arrived. Would she mind being in the photo for the section on culture and continuing education? Now, my mother would never have said she was model material. She was 5'8" which in 1948 was quite tall for a woman and she was a dairy farmer's daughter, if you know what I mean. Her polished black boots, khaki trousers and shirt, plus a corps beret in her epaulette weren't exactly runway-ready - well, not for a fashion runway! The photo of my mother looking at a book was duly snapped.
Some months later, my father was sent the brochure, interviewed at New Zealand House in London and was on his way to a new life, much to his mother's disappointment. He sailed on the "Atlantis" from Southampton and arrived in Wellington in May 1949. At Easter 1950, my parents were engaged and just before Christmas they were married.
It was a standing joke that Dad had come to find the girl in the brochure. It's probably not true, but is a good story.
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