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Posts Tagged ‘Germany’

62 – English love in the time of War

My Parents Ronald and Beryl Osbourne, at Kohat Pass (NW Frontier Province), Pakistan. April 1946

Image and Text contributed by John Reese-Osbourne, Australia

I first learned of the Indian Memory Project from an article in ‘The Australian’ of May 2011 (a News Ltd daily newspaper). After visiting the website, it occurred to me that others searching the pages might be interested in a brief glimpse of Indian Army life from the viewpoint of a British officer and his family in 1945-46. It may shed a personal light on that brief moment in time just before the watershed of Independence and the bloody shambles the politicians made of partition.

This images is of my parents taken on 23rd April 1946, and it show them at the top of the Kohat Pass, near Tribal Territory. My mother is wearing a revolver!. On the back of some of these photographs, she has captioned them as ‘the gateway to 30 miles of tribal territory’.

My father Ronald Osborne was born in Wales in 1910 and worked as sales manager in London for Geo. Wimpey & Co., then a large builder of houses. He volunteered for the British Army in 1939 just before universal conscription was introduced. He served initially with the Royal Engineers and fought in the abortive Norway campaign before undergoing commando training and going on the far more successful Lofoten Islands raid to destroy an oil refinery held by the German forces. Selected for officer training, he found that the pay in the Indian Army was higher than in the British forces and chose to be commissioned into the Royal Indian Army Service Corps, serving in the North African and Italian campaigns, where he rose to the rank of major, until the Indian Army was repatriated.

My mother Beryl (née Beardsley) was also born in 1910 and grew up in Derbyshire. She moved to London as a young woman where she met and married my father. I was born in 1934. When my father joined the army, we went to live with her parents in Kingston-upon-Thames, where they owned two shops. At some point in 1940 a stray German bomb destroyed the shops and my mother, grandmother and I moved to stay with relations in Derbyshire before settling in a small village called Kirk Hallam. My grandfather stayed in Kingston, continuing to run his shops from two garages.

Understandably impatient after five years of wartime separation, my mother joined the Women’s Indian Voluntary Service (WIVS) as a means of getting out to India. By coincidence, she and my father were on separate ships passing through the Suez Canal at the same time (I think in September 1945). They met briefly when their ships docked in Bombay, before travelling to their respective postings. Initially she worked in the WIVS headquarters in New Delhi, organising the postings of other British volunteers as they arrived. Seeing little point in staying in New Delhi while my father was stationed in Jalandhar, she surreptitiously posted herself there! At some time in 1946, my father’s unit was transferred to Kohat.

In 1945, I was 11 years old, attending a boarding school in Leicester in the UK Midlands and spending school holidays with my maternal grandparents in Kingston-upon-Thames or with my father’s brother’s family in Porthcawl, South Wales. Sadly I no longer have any of the letters from my parents, so the story of their time in Jalandhar and Kohat is based solely on my memory and the scribbled captions on the backs of old, fading black-and-white photographs in the album I began to compile that year.


48 – The very fashionable soul sisters of the 70s

My aunt Rashmi and mother Soma, at the annual town fair of Etawah, Uttar Pradesh, 1977

Image and Text contributed by Juhi Pande, Mumbai

This particular photograph was taken in Etawah, Uttar Pradesh in 1977. My mother (right) had finished her graduation and was teaching in a school. My masi, the bike rider, (mother’s sister) was in her 12th standard. They lived in Etawah, a town by the river Yamuna, with their father, Dr. Krishna Kumar, a Chief Medical Officer.

My maternal grandmother, also Dr. Krishna Kumar (yes, they shared the same name) at that time was incharge of the Dufferin Hospital in Raibarreily and they had all come on holiday to Etawah. There used to be a local mela (fair) every year, which the entire city would attend, because that’s what you do when you’re in Etawah. There were food stalls and rides and balloon & air gun shooting galleries. And then there was this photostudio where one could take dashing, avant-garde photographs. So, of course Soma & Rashmi climbed aboard this cardboard bike and posed. I can almost hear Rashmi’s laughter once the picture was developed. I feel you cannot entirely be pretty unless you are a bit silly.

My mother and my masi were born four years apart. But that’s just a technicality. Soulmates is a very vanilla word when it comes to them. Born to doctors, Soma and Rashmi lead a very nomadic life till their twenties. Moving from one city to another every couple of years meant that they mostly had each other for constant company.  Growing up from little girls to stunning young women I feel that they started to think alike yet maintained such different personalities that it was remarkable. I genuinely believe that they can read each others minds and I know they have a certain ‘look’ for their children, which not only freezes our blood but also paralyses our bones. I feel I love Dhruv, my brother, just like Soma Loves Rashmi. And I know it’s genetic. My masi Rashmi, now lives in Germany and my mother in Mumbai.

This is one of my most favorite pictures. Ever. For everything that it says and for every thing that I long to have over-heard.


36 – The most dangerous man in Bombay Presidency

My Grandfather (sitting, left) Narasinhbhai Patel with family.. Anand, Kheda District, Gujarat. Circa 1940

Image and text contributed by Sandhya Mehta

My maternal grandfather, Narasinhbhai was a revolutionary man. Records of British India describe him as ‘most dangerous man in Bombay Presidency ‘. He was exiled from British India for writing proscribed books. Though the Maharaja of Baroda clandestinely supported him. After completing his exile term in Germany and East Africa, C.F. Andrews persuaded him to join Ravindranath Tagore in Shantiniketan . He taught German there for a short time and then returned to his native town Kheda to support Gandhiji’s Salt Satyagraha . He became a leader in Kheda district. to mobilise Satyagraha. Standing behind him, first from left is his grandson Dr. Shantibhai Patel who also actively participated in the freedom struggle and later became a successful scientist . Narsinhbhai’s daughter, Shanta Patel (my mother), sits, first from right with my father G.P.Patel, standing behind her. My father, G.P Patel supported Narasinhbhai’s views, work and philosophy. They all were followers of Gandhiji.


24 – He was a Ph.d. in Sanskrit and Philosophy

My maternal grandfather Dr Vasudev Sukhtankar (center, with garland & white turban) Director of Education, Indore State. 1926

Image and text Contributed by Ashok Bhandarkar, Mumbai

In this photograph, my grandfather, the Director of Education was on an inspection tour of a school in Tarana (Indore State) on February 6, 1926 with group of boy scouts (probably the entire population of the school!)

‘Ajoba’ as we called him, was a PhD in Sanskrit and Philosophy from Germany and also a staunch Brahmo Samaji.