A Swedish Sub

My father is visiting me this week, which is always a pleasure. It's challenging too, as it often is when you live so close up to someone for a week. But whatever disagreements we might have it's worth it; my father has always been, and still is, very important to me. (So is my mother, but she's coming next month, so I'll come back to her then...)

The other day we were talking about this and that, and he asked me:

-You know that your grandfather served in the Navy, don't you?

I wasn't sure really, and I started to think about my grandfather, who died when I was 12. I remember my grandparents on my father's side, as an older distinguished couple who had all the time in the world, and more than willingly let me stay for sleepovers. I could sit at the opposite side of his desk and listen to his stories for hours. The funny thing is that I can't remember a single one of them, all I remember is the atmosphere and how i felt. A little in aw, and honored. But he sang, I remember that, or at least I think it's a memory. The truth is however that he did sing a lot earlier, and my father still talks about the book, with all these old songs written down, which was stolen from my grandfather's backpack while they were marching in the military. So at some point I must have known that he'd spent some time in uniform, but I guess I only thought of it as his military service. To me he was a retired bus driver.

But that's how kids think. They get the facts, and jut put them somewhere in storage without dealing so much with them. Kids are much more living now than yesterday, and so did I. My grandfather was 68 when I was born, so all I knew was this gentle and kind senior person. But apparently he served six years, and started out as a submarine seaman right after WW1.




He couldn't continue that due to some damage to his eyes. While using the observation scope to scan the sea surface and sky, the seamen's eyes were unprotected against the harsh reflections from the sun, and a lot of them got injured.



My grandfather therefore started to sail with minesweepers such as S/S Srängaren and S/S Blenda, and he also served as chief steward on the cruiser HMS Fylgia around South America.



That my father's older sister was born in 1926 I guess could have something to do with my grandfather giving up his Navy career, and when he went ashore for good he started out as a chef and butcher. Probably not both things at the same time, but so far my father's recollections are a little mixed up about this. Understandable, considering he was just a baby. We might get it sorted out sooner or later, but it's not that important.

All the small things we don't know, about people who are close to us. I think I'll have to sit down soon with my father and start record everything. He's a story teller, as his father was, and I feel a little obligated (and inspired) to keep up that tradition.