Latest news with #RoyalSignals
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Soldier was 'degraded and bullied', inquest told
A soldier found dead in his barracks was "degraded" by his superior officers, with one posting videos of his "humiliations" in a WhatsApp group, an inquest has heard. L/Cpl Bernard Mongan's decomposing body was found in his room at Catterick Garrison, North Yorkshire, on 23 January 2020 - three weeks after he was last seen. Asked about how the 33-year-old had been treated during his time at Catterick his former colleague, Steven Timmerman, told North Yorkshire Coroners' Court "bullying would be an understatement". He said the father-of-three was made to clean senior officers' cars in his own time and "forced" to do extra runs in his lunch break without being given time to eat. Mr Timmerman, who lived in the same accommodation block as L/Cpl Mongan, was one of three people who discovered his body. He told the inquest L/Cpl Mongan in the weeks and months before his death he had been "made to do additional work in his own time" and was "shouted, screamed and swore at in front of quite a few people". He said: "He was given tasks that he shouldn't have been given to do." Mr Timmerman said he could remember three occasions when L/Cpl Mongan was given a military Land Rover to clean that was not his. He said that on a military exercise around three months before his death, L/Cpl Mongan was "shouted and screamed at" in front of other soldiers by his own superior officers in his own department, for carrying out an order from another department. Mr Timmerman said that on the same exercise L/Cpl Mongan was told to help other departments set up their radio masts, but was refused help with his own and told to "do it himself". He told the inquest L/Cpl Mongan was put on remedial physical training after failing a fitness test, but was also "forced to go for an extra run on the same day and given no time for having lunch and breakfast". He described L/Cpl Mongan as a "cuddly teddy bear" who may have been a "soft target" because he was "a nice guy who took things easier". He said L/Cpl Mongan had issues with two sergeants and was "undermined" and "come down on very harshly", and had been considering a service complaint. Asked if he was bullied, Mr Timmerman said: "I would say that was an understatement." He told the hearing: "They spoke to Bernie as if he was inconsequential," adding that he had been "degraded". Asked if he was aware one officer "had been posting videos on a WhatsApp group of humiliations of Bernie", Mr Timmerman said: "I didn't know about that." The inquest also heard L/Cpl Mongan - a Royal Signals soldier who had served in Iraq - was due to start an attachment with the Army's 77 Brigade in Berkshire on 7 January 2020. Mr Timmerman said his friend, who was known as Bernie, "couldn't wait to go down to 77 Brigade". He said: "There was a noticeable change in him, he was happy, he was ready to move away." Mr Timmerman said he last saw L/Cpl Mongan at the barracks on 27 December. He said he had returned from a trip to Scotland on 5 January, but was not expecting to see L/Cpl Mongan as he was due to be on detachment by then. He said he had started to notice an "unusual smell" in the block after a few days, and on 22 January followed it down L/Cpl Mongan's corridor to realise it was coming from inside his room. Mr Timmerman said once he realised where the smell was coming from he spoke to a superior officer about getting the keys for the room, and the two of them went in with a civilian staff member the next morning to find L/Cpl Mongan's body lying face down on his bed. Opening the inquest on 2 June, senior coroner Jon Heath considered whether the soldier could have died from poisoning after barbiturates including Promethezene and Phenobarbital, which have a sedating effect, were found in his system. But paramedic Paul Spence told the court there was "no evidence of self-harm or suicide". The inquest heard L/Cpl Mongan had tried to kill himself several times and spent time at a recovery centre run by Help For Heroes. Capt Ben Atkin, RSM for L/Cpl Mongan's battalion, said he was never told the soldier had made several suicide attempts before arriving in the unit. Asked if that was a significant failure in communication, he said: "It's an issue, it's a failing, the system should have worked." Capt Atkin said the only time L/Cpl Mongan was discussed in regular welfare meetings was when he was the victim of an assault by two soldiers outside the battalion while on a night out in Catterick. Asked about L/Cpl Mongan being made to do extra runs, Capt Atkin said: "Physical exercise is not allowed to be used in the British Army as a punishment. "It's completely inappropriate and if I had seen it, I would have stopped it." The inquest continues. Listen to highlights from North Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, catch up with the latest episode of Look North. Dead soldier had not harmed himself, inquest told HM Courts & Tribunals Service


Daily Mail
05-05-2025
- General
- Daily Mail
A day of joy... and tears for the fallen - Scotland's WWII heroes relive the moment they knew victory was won
It was the day when peace broke out across Europe, when a war-weary country threw off the shackles of fear on their great day of redemption. As King George VI took to the airwaves on May 8, 1945, to declare Victory in Europe, his electrifying words sparked happy bedlam across the streets of Britain as people burst into spontaneous sing-songs and partied long into the night knowing the dark shadow of Nazism was lifted. Yet, while those back home danced in fountains with newfound abandon, many on the frontline barely had time for a beer. Others preferred the solace of a quiet corner to contemplate the loss of comrades as they braced for the prospect of a final, gruelling push in the Far East against a defiant Japan. Now, as the 80th anniversary of VE Day approaches and we prepare to remember all those who made the ultimate sacrifice so we could live as free people in a world of free nations, the Scottish Daily Mail delves into the memories of that now-dwindling wartime generation to present some deeply personal reflections on that momentous day of days. THE SIGNALMAN JOHN Mitchell, of the Royal Signals, recalls the moment he learned the war in Europe was over: 'I was out in a small wireless truck with three men somewhere in Germany. I don't remember where exactly,' said Mr Mitchell, of Darvel, Ayrshire, who is now 100. 'We were sent to places where they needed communications set up and we were doing our job when we turned on the radio and listened as they reported Hitler's death and the end of war in Europe. And that was it.' He found himself in a strange limbo: 'At the time, the day didn't really mean anything to us. We were too far away from barracks or anywhere you could congregate as a unit. And you were not allowed to fraternise with the Germans, so we couldn't have gone into a pub even if there had been one nearby.' For Mr Mitchell, who took part in the D-Day landings in June 1944, there was at least relief at the news. Like many who took part in Operation Overlord, he has done his best over the intervening decades to 'eradicate' some of the worst memories of the conflict from his mind. After landing on Juno Beach on the night of D-Day plus one, he became separated from the rest of his unit and after being ordered to wait until morning before advancing, he witnessed a truck being blown up by a mine. 'The Canadian driver drove forward a couple of yards and hit a mine. The truck was destroyed. There are some incidents that you do not forget,' he said. 'There was a certain amount of relief that the war was done.' Soon posted back home, he felt detached from the holiday mood in the country: 'We were being kitted out for a tour of duty in Burma until they dropped the Atom bomb on Japan.' Astonishingly, although hostilities were at an end, his unit's commanding officers took them out on parade and read them the Riot Act. 'Although there was no discontent, I think they were afraid people were keen to go home right away to see loved ones and they needed to keep us in our place,' he said. Mr Mitchell, who remained in the Army until 1947 and later received the French Legion D'Honneur, will be at a VE Day garden party in Darvel, near his home in Ayrshire. Earlier in the week, he will be among guests at the VE Day 80 reception and concert in honour of veterans at the Usher Hall in Edinburgh. He said: 'There are so few veterans left now. It is a time for us to look back and remember our friends.' THE MUNITIONS FACTORY GIRL NANCY Bennett was a month shy of her 15th birthday when war broke out across Europe on September 1, 1939. Born Nancy McBride, she grew up far from the frontline with four sisters at her parents' farm at Overton Cottage near Dreghorn in Ayrshire. Yet even here the threat of attack by enemy forces was ever-present. She remembers soldiers billeted near the farm, and her father donning his special constable's hat during air raids and the deadly drone of Luftwaffe planes flying overhead. In 1942, 18-year-old Nancy went to work as a secretary at ICI's heavily guarded Ardeer munitions factory near the Ayrshire coastal town of Irvine. The UK's first dynamite factory, its 2,000-acre site had grown during wartime to become the largest manufacturer of explosives in the world, employing 13,000 workers at its peak. Security was tight with perimeter guards, barrage balloons and sea defences: 'You had to go through a police gate and if you had matches or a lighter or anything flammable, they had to be handed in,' said Mrs Bennett, now aged 100. A stray spark from a cigarette would have been disastrous, but other dangers lurked in the skies above. 'The Germans attempted to bomb it. Once they dropped three bombs, but all three missed their target – otherwise, there would have been a lot blown up,' she said. When VE Day was announced, Nancy's family were on holiday at Lamlash on Arran: 'We heard it on the radio news. And the Navy had some ships in the bay and I remember the cacophony of their hooters going off in celebration and the sailors came ashore and we celebrated with them as they had a dance and drink. They were glad to come ashore for a while.' Such joyful memories are tinged with sadness. 'It made me think of my schoolfriends from Kilmarnock Academy who went off to war and never came home', she said. In June 1949, she married former merchant seaman Jack Bennett, whose family ran a licensed grocers in Irvine. 'Jack was in the thick of the war. On one occasion, his ship was next to another one that was blown up,' she said. 'Another time, he had to swim between two ships during a blackout when they needed supplies, but nobody warned the gunners on the other ship that he was coming so they started shooting at him and he had to dive underwater to avoid the bullets from his own side.' In 1961, the couple moved into the house in Irvine where Mrs Bennett still lives and where they raised their two daughters, Kay and Isabelle. This year, she said she will observe VE Day 'quietly at home' with her memories and 'no fuss'. THE BOMBER PILOT HAVING flown on some of the most hair-raising bombing raids across wartime Europe, RAF pilot Harry Richardson was 5,000 miles away on active service in India while Britain – including his wife – celebrated VE Day. For Captain Richardson and the rest of 159 Squadron, however, there was only brief respite from their mission fighting the Japanese by destroying ports and transport lines in south-east Asia in their Liberator-class bombers. 'We had a few pints in the mess when the news came through on the radio – probably more than a few actually. Even the commanding officers joined in – after all, they were still normal guys,' said Mr Richardson, now a remarkable 107 years old. 'It was quite a relief, but we still had a job to do, although we thought once Europe was finished the rest would follow pretty quickly.' Among those carried away by the national euphoria was his wife, Margaret, who travelled to central London from the family home in Wembley to party in Trafalgar Square. She was accompanied by Mr Richardson's two brothers, Stan and Ken, who had recently been repatriated from German PoW camps. 'My wife told me later she had a lovely time with my two brothers,' laughed Mr Richardson. Now one of the last surviving Second World War bomber pilots, Mr Richardson completed 62 dangerous wartime missions when he was expected to carry out only 30. His record is all the more impressive considering the grim 46 per cent death rate among aircrew in Bomber Command. In one close shave in 1942, he cheated death when he and his six crew came under heavy fire from German anti-aircraft guns while flying over the Hague at 8,000ft. He escaped by corkscrewing down to just a few feet above the rooftops to fly under the searchlights 'all the while keeping an eye out for steeples'. Their ordeal continued when a flak ship opened up as they reached the North Sea. 'One shell exploded inside our cabin, putting holes through the navigator's seat, table and one of his maps, and through the hydraulic tank, which we sealed with chewing gum. We lost a door but we landed safely,' he said. Mr Richardson left the RAF with the rank of Flight Lieutenant and a chest full of medals for outstanding bravery, including the Distinguished Flying Cross, before going on to a long career as an air traffic controller at Prestwick airport. On Thursday, Mr Richardson will travel to London from his home in Ochiltree, Ayrshire, as a VIP guest at the VE Day 80 commemorations at Westminster Abbey and the concert televised live from Horse Guards Parade. 'This year's celebrations feel special. There's so few of us left and I want to remember the other lads, the ones who can't be there.' THE RAF HAIRDRESSER RENEE MacLean joined the RAF in 1942 as soon as women were allowed to enlist. She wanted to be a driver, but when the force found out she was a qualified hairdresser, she was ordered to pick up her scissors and cut and style the new intake of female recruits. 'I was annoyed because I liked the idea of driving the officers around,' said Mrs MacLean, 103. Posted to Jerusalem, she found that even a humble hairdresser could not escape the horror of war. 'One of my officers was a very wealthy American whose husband had returned from three years in Burma. So I did her hair and she always give me half a crown, which was a lot of money in those days,' she said. 'She used to joke that she'd adopt me and I would go back home with her.' That day, the American's husband came to pick her up in a taxi and as she left 'she waved to me and smiled'. That weekend, Mrs MacLean was serving as duty corporal in the guardroom when two policemen arrived with grave news. 'They said the American couple had gone to church on the Sunday morning and the building had suffered a direct hit and they were both killed,' she said. 'They told me I needed to come and identify her. 'I had never seen a dead body in my life, but I went and the sheet comes off and I said, 'Yes, that's her'. It was very sad.' Originally from Cardigan in Wales, she had already met her future husband, Neil MacLean, from Glasgow, who served with 603 (City of Edinburgh) Squadron, and was an uncle of comedian Sir Billy Connolly. 'I've met Billy a few times, although I must say he never made me laugh,' said Mrs MacLean firmly. VE Day was already two days old by the time the news filtered through to Jerusalem: 'So, we were still working away when somebody said, 'The war's finished', and I said, 'Does that mean we don't have to do guard duty any more?'' Rather than undiluted joy, there was only muted relief. 'People could see the war was still going on in Japan and we were more worried about that than what was happening in Europe,' she said. 'A lot of the men thought they would have to go to Japan rather than be demobbed. But by the time they were trained up and due to ship out to southeast Asia, it was all over. The bomb had gone off and Japan surrendered.' After the MacLeans married they settled in Glasgow, in the same home where Mrs MacLean still lives, and had two sons – both of whom became Wing Commanders in the RAF – and a daughter. Mrs MacLean, who expects to attend the VE Day 80 Service of Thanksgiving at Glasgow Cathedral on Thursday, said: 'We may not have celebrated much then, but it is important not to forget.' THE NAVY VETERAN A YEAR before VE Day, Albert Lamond was a fresh-faced 18-year-old Naval signalman on board the frigate HMS Rowley as the battle for the Normandy beaches raged about him on June 6, 1944. The horrors that he witnessed have lived with him ever since. 'D-Day is very difficult to talk about,' he said. 'We could see all the men trying to get ashore, not knowing what was waiting for them. All we could do was watch, hoping to defend as many of them as we possibly could. We understood the importance of what we were doing and why we had to do it. But it didn't make it any better.' A veteran of Atlantic sea battles and the Arctic convoys, by May 1945 Mr Lamond had already been despatched to the South Pacific on HMS Bonaventure and was fighting the Japanese forces when VE Day was declared. His nephew Martin Lamond said his uncle, who is now 99 and in poor health, was unable to dwell on news of the Nazi capitulation. 'He was mainly involved in precarious close-quarter sabotage of enemy ships. VE day, although welcome news for the crew, wasn't something they got time to celebrate on board,' he said. 'In fact, it brought Albert potentially even greater danger than the enormous danger he had already faced in Europe.' Due to the Japanese refusal to surrender, Mr Lamond's ship was dispatched to invade Japan within the American Sixth Fleet – the only British vessel to take part in this mission. 'The first atomic bomb, however, allowed the fleet to turn back before they reached Japanese waters. VJ day therefore has more resonance with Albert than VE day does,' said his nephew. Even then, Albert Lamond's work was not finished as his ship was used to evacuate people from territories occupied by Japan. Awarded many medals for his service, Mr Lamond, who married his late wife Margaret in 1950, left the Navy and spent 40 years as a train driver. He now lives at the Erskine Home, set within Erskine's Veterans' Village in Renfrewshire, which is hosting a street party on Thursday. Mr Lamond, who hopes to attend, said recently: 'It's vital we teach future generations the true cost of freedom and ensure they never forget the horrors we faced. It's our duty to keep the past alive, so history does not repeat its darkest days.'


Powys County Times
02-05-2025
- General
- Powys County Times
Powys communities encouraged to mark VE Day anniversary
Communities in Powys are being encouraged to unite for the 80th anniversaries of VE Day and VJ Day. VE Day, which falls on Thursday, May 8, will be commemorated with various events next week, while VJ Day, on Friday, August 15, will be marked later in the year. The upcoming VE Day events in Powys include street parties, live music, parades, and church services. Councillor Matthew Dorrance, Powys County Council's deputy leader and armed forces champion, said: "I'm really keen to see Powys communities come together to mark these significant anniversaries. "Next week presents an opportunity to celebrate our victory over the fascist forces in Europe in 1945 and to honour and remember the sacrifices made by family members and friends, who were alive during the Second World War. "VE Day marks a pivotal point in our history and without their victory 80 years ago, Britain would have faced a very bleak and brutal future." The council will also host a flag-raising ceremony at County Hall in Llandrindod Wells on Thursday, May 8, with members of the 160th (Welsh) Brigade, Royal Signals, Royal Army Nursing Corps, and Llandrindod Wells Royal British Legion Branch in attendance. The public is invited to attend the event at 12.30pm. Mr Dorrance added: "Enjoy your celebrations and tag the council in your pictures on social media, if you would like us to share them." Event organisers are encouraged to add their events to the official UK Government website or the VE Day 80th Anniversary website. Additionally, there will be a VE Day procession and flypast in London on Monday, May 5.


BBC News
29-03-2025
- Politics
- BBC News
Tributes paid after the mayor of Richmond dies from illness
Tributes have been paid to a mayor who has died of White, 76, was serving his third term as mayor of Richmond when he died on Thursday, according to the town White served in the Army with the Royal Signals and was president of the Royal Signals Association as well as being chair of the Richmond branch of the Royal British Legion (RBL).Mr White also served as mayor in 2013 and 2021. According to the Local Democracy Reporting Service, a council spokesperson said: "It is with great regret that Richmond Town Council announces the sad passing on Thursday of councillor Bob White, mayor of Richmond, following an illness borne with great strength and dignity."Laurence Lines, secretary of the RBL branch, said: "Bob was a great man and over the years did a huge amount of work supporting and promoting the branch at local, county and national level."Stuart Parsons, the member for Richmond on North Yorkshire Council and a former mayor of the town himself, said: "It's very said that it has come to this and I hope his wife and family will feel supported."Bob and I didn't often see eye to eye politically, but he believed in many causes and worked very hard for them and for the town of Richmond." Listen to highlights from North Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, catch up with the latest episode of Look North.


Telegraph
19-03-2025
- Lifestyle
- Telegraph
I used to work at GCHQ — now I'm a model at 84
I started 2025 quite deliberately leaving my diary blank. I'd already made a series of changes to my life – aged 84 – after selling the house following the sudden loss of my husband Colin in December 2020 and finding somewhere new to live in Stow-on-the-Wold in Gloucestershire. I'm still running my business consultancy, which I originally set-up in 1990 when I was 50. But I thought there are other things I haven't done yet. So, as an adventurer, I thought, well, let the universe provide, stop trying to think what you could do and just let it happen. Whilst browsing social media, I kept seeing advertisements suggesting a career in modelling. It seemed perfect – and potentially an opportunity to inspire other older women to embrace life and try new experiences too, if it worked for me. I responded to one of the advertisements, by a firm that finds people for modelling agencies, and only days later, on January 14, I went to my first photoshoot. I was then signed up by the end of the month. I'd never modelled before. I was born in India, educated in an Army school in Singapore and then moved to the UK and got married at 21. I had worked for GCHQ in Cheltenham as a clerical officer from 1958 to 1966 as my late father Major Reginald Farlow (who was awarded an MBE) was in the Royal Signals. I was 18 when I became part of the intelligence gathering operation there and I turned down a promotion to be an executive officer because I wanted a family instead. It's just so out of the blue, completely unexpected, unplanned. But I'm a believer in seizing on life's flashpoints and being ready to jump rather than waiting to be pushed. I'm jumping. The photo studio has been very supportive and the mature model market of 85 to 90 is the lifespan they've given me – in other words, I've potentially got a six-year career ahead of me. So, that should be quite exciting. You just don't know what doors are going to open. My two daughters, Alison and Rachel, didn't feel the same way when they originally found out – they worried I was being scammed. Not surprisingly, I had never done a professional photoshoot before this all began. I spent four hours in a professional studio in Soho with a team of people – a shoot manager, hair stylist, make-up artist and photographer. I was asked to arrive with a personal wardrobe with anything from six to eight outfits with different themes – and then they selected the best ones to 'sell' me. I enjoyed the freedom to be captured in many moods and the chance to pose inside the studio and out on location in the streets of Soho. You go in raw and then they do a build-up of shoots showing you as natural, then the final one is for glamour. You know, my eyes look about three times bigger than they actually are. I loved the attitude of Iris Apfel, the American fashion designer who became a model at the age of 97, and I just said 'good on you'. She just didn't care about her age and showed you can just go out, just carry on and do whatever. I had a near-death experience 40 years ago in a dreadful car crash. When you come that close to not being here, you really think why do we fret about this and worry about that? I had been heading home to take over the childcare from my husband when I overtook a lorry en route from Northleach to Cheltenham. What I didn't know was that the lorry, which was now behind me, had 20 tonnes of peat in its trailer. Then the trailer brakes popped – the hydraulic system just fractured. I heard this noise, the horn was blaring and the headlights were on. I looked in the mirror and coming down the hill behind me was my nightmare. The driver's side of my car was gone. The lorry also devoured the boot, and the back seat. The police told me I had 16 to 18 seconds to decide whether I lived or died. Thankfully, I'd had the foresight to try and get my body over onto the passenger side. Anyway, I'm here and it makes you grateful for life. Since then, I've flown over volcanoes, helped a company grow from £24 million to £45 million in turnover and travelled across Russia through Siberia to the Altai Mountains and to the Mongolian border in 2002 with just three words of Russian. Next year, I head to the Galápagos Islands for my 86th birthday. It's something that would test me to the limits. It's an extreme experience. I wanted to really push myself. My motto in life is that uncertainty is uncomfortable. Besides, I was told by a clairvoyant in Arizona that I wouldn't reach my full potential until I was in my eighties. The rest was experience gathering. I think this zest for life is something that I shall take to the last moment. I'm not going to forfeit anything.