My Darling Son

The telegram sent by Moss Miller’s sister-in-law, Leah Senior, in June 1944, telling him he had a baby son

On the day I was born, June 5, 1944, my father was sailing to France with his regiment, the 85th Field Company Royal Engineers. They were heading for Juno beach in Normandy for the D-Day landings. Corporal Moss Miller was the only Jewish soldier in the regiment.

During the journey, he received a telegram from my aunt that told him: "It's a Boy. All satisfactory". That's how he found out I was born. We didn't meet each other until the war was over and he returned home to Leeds in 1945. By then I was 14 months old. He later told me that on the boat going over, he thought to himself that if he survived, he would make me a big barmitzvah. Happily, in 1957, that is what he and my mother did.

During my father's time in Europe, he saw action in France, Belgium, Holland and Germany. While he was on active service, nearly every day, or whenever possible, he sent me a postcard headed: "My Darling Son". For security reasons he couldn't say where he was. The cards were so sweetly written, and so poignant. In one, he tells me he has sent me a teddy bear. "I hope you like it," he wrote, and he also gave me a message for my mother: "Tell her I am fit and well and not to worry if a day goes by without a letter."

He must have felt such anguish leaving my mother as she was about to give birth, and then imagining her and the baby son he had never met. He often said that writing the postcards helped to boost his morale through those long, difficult months of the war.

He had numerous amazing wartime experiences. One was when the regiment arrived at the France/Belgium border and found the bridge over the river had been blown up. The order was given to drive a tank into the river, to enable them and the many following troops to cross swiftly into Belgium.
The tank remained in the river until 1976 when it was raised up. It was renovated to pristine condition. In June 1981, my father attended a special ceremony held on Graye-sur-Mer beach in Normandy to celebrate the tank, which was nicknamed "Nottingham Bridge". Dignitaries from France, Belgium and the UK were at the ceremony.

Three years later, my father was invited to the 40th anniversary of D-Day in France, but due to his failing health he was unable to go. He passed away in January 1988, aged 78, and after my mother died in August 2001, I was given all his wartime possessions.

Last year, my son Max came with his family from Australia to Israel to celebrate my 75th birthday, which of course coincided with the 75th anniversary of D-Day. While they were with me and my wife Dianne in our home in Raanana, my grandsons Leon and Gidon were both greatly interested to hear about my father's wartime experiences and loved looking through the postcards.