July 10th was supposed to be Dads Wake. Unfortunatly that morning Mump passed away and joined Dad. The Wake was cancelled and this was to have been a tribute to Dad. I thought I’d place it here for anybody to read…

I’ve been asked to say a few words about Dad.
Most of these words are about My Dad and the memories I have of him, the man, the father, and the great influence he had on us/me.

Firstly I want to thank you all for coming today in honour of my Dad.  I know there have been  difficult times with COVID restrictions and because of that we were unable to have this Wake on the day of the funeral. Some of you have travelled a long distances to pay your respects and be with us for the second time today.  I know dad would have appreciated seeing you all here again and he would  think that he deserved nothing less. He would shrug his shoulders and say of course he was worth it. I’m not going to stand here today and do another eulogy to Dad, Mike did that at his funeral and given the restrictions placed on him he did a fabulous job! 

I’d like this to be more of a story; his story.
“What appened was…..”

We all know Dad was born in Barnstable on the 25th November 1933. We all know he was a proud Devonian. Dad was the person that told me why the Cornish and Devonians didn’t like each other. Dad was never one to hold a grudge but this feud dates back to the Roman Empire! I find it hard to imagine what life was like for my Dad growing up in a busy north Devon market town.His mother was a seamstress at a hat factory called Dents and used to model their hats for them. His father worked for the council and during his career tarmacked most of the roads around North Devon that we still use today. Dads grandparents were from a  farming background. Something Dad was proud of, good Devonian stock. Dad was surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins as he grew up.  He cycled everywhere often down to Croyde or Saunton. He grew up through the Second World War everyday life would be a struggle. Although it wasn’t London. Only one bomb was ever dropped on Barnstable aimed at the gas works, it missed. German bombers regularly flew over on their way to South Wales. RAF Chivenor was only a few miles away. Never an academic at school it was decided that he would do an apprenticeship at his uncle Jacks bakery. He was made to work hard. Uncle Jack didn’t let him slack off. It was there that he fell in love with Baking. When his Sister Jean married, he made their three tier wedding cake as his gift. Iceing all done by Dad. When he was called to National service in 1956 he chose the airforce, and into the catering corp. he became a Master chef, cooking for mess functions and doing all kinds of elaborate meals. 

Not long after joining the RAF he suffered a serious accident on his beloved motor bike hitting a cow which was crossing the road.  This resulted in dad spending many weeks in hospital which is where he met the nurse who was to become the love of his life. Dad went on to marry mum in December 1959 and they spent the next 61 years rarely parted.

Dad went on to serve a 35yr career with the Air Force making it to the rank of Warrant Officer. A career he was very proud of and we are also very proud of him for it. A further ten years served as a Civil Servant stationed at Rudloe Manor. 

When he eventually retired Mum and Dad wanted to travel and they did. Holidays abroad were enjoyed while they still had their health. Australia and New Zealand, Egypt, cruises. They had some great holidays.

Meal Times/Sunday Dinner 

Sunday dinner was something Dad prided himself on and woe betide anyone that was late for dinner. The usual fair was a Devonshire Roast, our plates were piled high with meat potatoes and veg. In fact Mike and I had our dinners served on serving platters because the meals were so huge.  I found this perfectly normal until I started dating and eating at other families tables, the plates were so small! Also Dad and Mump had this little thing that they did while they dated, pinching food from another plate. We not only had to eat our dinner but guard it as well. You could lose a potato or worse some crackling! The time at the Sergeants Mess Battle of Britain Ball, when a Sargent placed his breakfast down beside me then went to collect some cutlery. He wasn’t impressed when he returned to find that I’d eaten it and Dad had to use his power as catering Warrant Officer to calm the hungry man down. I was in my 30’s by then but Mike and I both laughed at Dad.

The very first time I became drunk was also in the mess. This time I was 16yrs old and working as a wine waiter. As the son of the Catering officer I was entrusted with all the staffs wages for the evening, a few hundred pounds in my back pocket to “look after” To cut a shameful story short, I went minesweeping and ended up very drunk. Eventually finding a quiet cloakroom in which to examine the contents of my stomach. I examined them all over the walls, coats and toilets. It turned out that while I was examining the said contents, staff wanted to be paid and a manhunt was started to try and find me. Eventually I was found with my head down one of the toilets and I begged the mess manager not to tell my Dad. The next words I heard made my blood run cold! “Don’t worry Son nobody needs to tell me, I’m stood right behind you.” The following week Dad let me know that I’d embarrassed him at every available opportunity but we ended up laughing about it and continued to too this day.
Dad loved his music, Ackerbilk Benny Goodman, Glen Miller. The Pink Panther theme. His taste was very eclectic but his love for a good tune was endless. During his tour of Aden dad had his own radio show for about a year, on British Forces radio, playing big band music. A subject he was very knowledgeable on.
At another dinning in night, again I was a wine waiter, but under strict instructions not to get drunk. I was privileged enough to witness Dad meet one of his heroes. Ackerbilk. He and his band had been booked as the entertainment, I suspect Dad had a hand in this. Ackerbilk was on stage, playing his Clarinet and I glanced over to see Dad, drink in one hand, cigar in the other. His eyes closed and just swaying to the music, a big smile on his face! To say he was solid gone was an understatement! When they finished playing Ackerbilk stayed on stage signing autographs. I told Dad that he should go up and meet the man himself but he wouldn’t have any of it. Instead I had to go onto the stage and ask him to sign a photo for my Dad. I don’t know what happened to that picture I don’t think I’ve ever seen it since?

Dad was funny. Dad’s sense of humour was legendary. He taught us to laugh at ourselves. He told us all that if we couldn’t do this then we had no right to laugh at anybody else.
Dad loved a good practical joke. If he thought a joke wasn’t funny, you would be the first to know.
Dad was very quick  to reply with witty one liners and he would laugh even if you didn’t. He had a ten second rule though and if you replied outside of that ten seconds then it didn’t count. It could be the best line ever, Dad might even agree that it was good. However it was too slow. He still couldn’t understand that we would have him at every opportunity. The time I told him that it was a little known fact that the word ‘ Gullible’ wasn’t in the dictionary. It wasn’t until he found the dictionary and looked the word up, to prove me wrong. When I asked him to read the definition I had to leave the room for laughing. I didn’t get far and when he caught me he wasn’t impressed. 
Another time, on a Saturday morning I believe. Dad was cooking in the kitchen here. Mump was in the dinning room doing some ironing and when I turned up Dad asked me to run round downstairs with the hoover. Of course I didn’t hesitate. Anything to help. I took the hoover from the cupboard under the stairs and jogged around downstairs carrying it. On my third lap, while passing through the kitchen Dad glared at me and uttered, “If you run past me one more time carrying that Hoover I’ll smash you!” 
 Dad was funny, always funny. Right up until the last time I saw him. I walked into his room and said “Hello Dad, you’re looking well today.” He smiled and replied, “Hello Son, you could do with losing a few pounds.” There was no malice, just that smile. He  was right of course and here I am six months later, a stone lighter and still trying. 


My Dads moto was ‘I may have many faults, however being wrong is not one of them. 


Dads Cat, Smokey.

Dad loved having family pets but during his career didn’t think it was fair to have a family pet due to constantly moving. Eventually he gave in and we found Smokey as a young kitten in Miss Bishops home down the road from Highlands. We had to wait for two months before we could have her and imagine our surprise six weeks later when we came home to find Smudge. Smudge and Smokey grew up tolerating each other but Smokey held Dads heart.

As cats go Smokey was pretty useless. She could never catch anything, Smudge did all the hunting, Smokey used to steal his kills and try to convince us that she’d caught them. Dad spoiled her rotten, often to be seen with her laying in his arms while he fed her titbits. He used to buy and cook liver as a treat just for her. I remember one time we came back from Highlands with a gallon of scrumpy and Dad gave a saucer to her. She lapped it up. Then consequently fell off the back of the couch and then again off the seat of the couch. Dad and I laughed which didn’t impress the cat much. After that incident though, if we ever had scrumpy cider, she would insist on her share and be vicious if she didn’t get any!





Dad loved us all but was careful when we turned up especially if there was more than one of us. For twenty years the four of us were never together at the same time, Dad said he preferred it that way. It was easier for him to cope with. The end of that Twenty years was Dan’s 18th birthday. Dad claimed to be secretly dreading the four of us in the same room at the same time. He actually loved it, we spark off one another and the fact that Dad was there made it an event. Of course we all know the events of that fateful night and I’m happy to say Dan did survive. After that event the four of us seemed to meet more frequently. Even visiting him at the Wingfield when the four of us went in he loved every minute. We did generally turn up with a little tipple for him that also put a smile on his face. Even when Mump was seriously ill in hospital at the beginning of last year. Dad insisted on visiting her and arrived in a wheelchair via taxi. When Mike pointed out to us how funny it was watching Dad be loaded into the back we all went out for the laugh. Dad claimed not to be amused but he loved that we were all there taking the piss.

Family

All through Dads life his love of family shone through. There was nothing he enjoyed more than his family being present. Whether that was his own children, grandchildren, his sister, his in-laws and his own parents. He had a special bond with the entire family. He once told me, when I asked if he had any regrets/what would he do differently if he could. (Yes Dad and I used to have deep and meaningful discussions too.) Dad told me that if he could do anything differently he would live closer to his family. He wondered what it would be like if we were like other families that all lived close to each other. …… 

His mother in law was a particular favourite and her home, Highlands, was where we would all head for on holidays, Christmas, Easter and summer holidays were spent there as children. So many memories and not enough time here to reminisce. Enough to say Dad loved every minute spent there, well almost apart from the time he trapped his finger between two ladders – another story for another day.

Dad didn’t always approve of some of my life decisions. He used to accuse me of not listening to him…….. I always listened but sometimes chose my own path. I can hear him laughing now as I repeat the same advice to my own children with the same effect.  


But I have to say my Dad inspired me. He was always there for me. And never once let me down. His little wink and smile are famous throughout the family, along with his toast on family occasions which was always and I would like you to join us,  ‘To absent friends’.

Once again, thank you from all of us for being here today to remember our Dad, Brian Hill who died on the 13thJanuary this year…..

The funniest Dad I ever had……