I knew things were different for me, at an early age, I was one of the few children to receive free school dinners. Not old enough to realise that it needed a working parent to pay for such things, I knew, like many children of that era, that there was no Dad waiting for us (I have one brother) when we arrived home from school. Yes, we knew he had gone to fight a war, but it was to be many years before we could fully appreciate the fact that there would never be a Dad waiting.

It was to be 50 years before an old school friend was to tell me that her parents forbade her to talk to me and Laurence about our father as he was killed in the war and it would upset us too much. Time passed and as we grew into young adults we became more aware of the struggle mother had had to keep us in the manner she had. I suppose we came to accept that father was never coming back. As time brought us into the world of an adult, we both got married and the 'NOT KNOWING' of what really happened to father was left on the back burner.

Not until 1989 did I feel the need to know more about the whereabouts of my father. Out came the atlas to look up where on this earth Sandakan in Borneo was, all the more difficult as Borneo is now Sabah. Mother had shown me a photograph of father's grave at a place called Sandakan and this she believed to be his final resting place. However, after much searching and looking up R. R. Harold on the War Graves Commission site, I learned that he now lays at Labuan, an island off the mainland of Sabah (more on this later). It would appear that his Regiment 48 LAA 95 Bty was sent to Java (a name I had often heard my mother mention as I had been growing up) to guard airfields at three places, not Singapore as many books had led me to believe. Very shortly after landing all were captured by the Japanese and imprisoned straight away along with many members of the RAF, Dutch forces and I believe, Australians. They were not kept very long on Java before being shipped off to various destinations.

I feel I should at this point tell of the fact that my own father was in the same 'mob' as the father of someone who has become a very dear friend of myself and my wife - I refer to Yvonne Shorten, a fellow member of COFEPOW. Her father's name was Horace Green. Whether or not they knew each other 'who knows' but I like to think that perhaps they did. Yvonne and I realised we had a common bond following us both attending a memorial service at the Garrison Church of the Royal Regiment of Artillery at Larkhill in Wiltshire. It was prior to the service that those present with family lost at Sandakan were asked to sign and fill in details of loved ones who were killed or otherwise died at Sandakan. I knew most of my father's details but Yvonne was not sure of hers on one or two points but with the help of dear John Bessant (John has carried out much research into the happenings at Sandakan and is a wealth of info on the subject) was able to complete her entry. It was at this point that we instantly realised our fathers had been together through the turmoil of surrender at Java and subsequently finished up together at a 'hell hole' called Sandakan. We could not get over the fact that we had travelled together to attend this service completely unaware that our fathers had most likely been together and had known each other. I have since found photohgraphs of my father also featuring Yvonne's father and can tell you it is a great feeling to know the daughter of a fellow who knew my father and were obvious buddies together so many miles from their families.

Now back to my original story of 'My Dad'. 1991 was to be the year of our first visit to Labuan, the final resting place of the father I never knew and as my wife wrote in her diary that first evening - 'the most beautiful place in the world'. We have been fortunate to see many lovely places before and since then but none can compare with the lovely spot where I got to call my father 'Dad' for the first time. We had travelled so many miles for this moment and although it was one of the most emotional moments of my life, I cannot describe the numbness I felt at that moment but knew there and then that this one visit was never going to be enough - I would have to come back.

I cannot continue without a mention of our wonderful friend and guide, Mr Willie Tui. Nothing was too much trouble for Willie. He really was so very helpful, taking and introducing us to the then lady curator of the cemetery, a marvellous person who, herself, epitomised the people of the area. One of her big concerns was the upkeep of the flowers. She would get wrong from her boss for not putting the water available on the dried-up grass instead of the wonderful flowers but I see she did not get so very wrong as she is now housed in a lovely bungalow adjacent to the cemetery in her well-earned retirement.

As previously stated, I knew that one visit to this 'never to be forgotten' part of the world was not going to be enough for me and so it was in 1996 we were off again, this time via the (must see) island of Hong Kong. It seemed ages until the next stop in our busy schedule to the mainland of Sabah and the resort of Kota Kinabalu - Caribbean? (you keep it!!) This is God's country! Next morning we were at the airport bright and (very) early for the short hop to the island of Labuan. We were back again!! This time to be met by a new curator. As an old hand I felt sure I could handle it but no, the emotion was greater than ever it had been five years earlier. One thing I did learn on that visit was the comforting news that the grave did, in fact, contain the remains of my father not, as in many cases, just a headstone without any remains.

At this stage in my life COFEPOW was to be formed and I am proud to have been one of the founder members of such a sincere and worthwhile organisation. Thus it was in 2001that my wife and I were able to once more visit father, this time accompanied by 30 members of COFEPOW. I was so proud to have along friends and members who would be there to meet my father. It was a moment in my life I will cherish forever.

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