Keeping a diary is something that few people do today unless they are politicians looking to make a buck. And whilst we have seen recently instances of some generals recording their life story, to the best of my knowledge, no senior airman or sailor has done so for quite some time. More’s the pity I suppose because there is much to say as our armed forces are steadily eroded to impotence. Nevertheless, one should be careful, for such accounts are too often tarnished by selective memory and self-justification.
My own efforts in the mid 1990s are certainly not for publication even if I could now find them!
Sir Fred Rosier’s story is different. Firstly, and unusually, it covers two seminal periods of the twentieth century which have defined our lives today The Second World War, extensively analysed still, devastated the lives of millions in so many countries; and the Cold War which extended for some forty-five years, most of my service life, touched virtually every corner of the planet in one way or another.
These memoirs, the main sources of which were his personal papers and the letters he wrote to Het as his girlfriend and later his wife of fifty-nine years, were written for no other purpose than to keep a record. People did then, and how much we have all gained from such memories often scribbled on old notebooks or scraps of paper. I doubt that emails will carry the same interest or natural elegance should they be unearthed in the future.
Fred’s recollections, now collated into chapters by his eldest son David, are a delight. They are, as one would expect from a man who took pleasure in the simple expression of ideas, refreshingly uncomplicated. He wrote as he spoke, without pretence, as he saw things at the time, and with no eye on the judgement of history.
His love of the Royal Air Force and of life shines through, as does his integrity The reader will not learn much of why Fred Rosier was thought of so highly as an operational commander; nor perhaps will he or she appreciate just how influential were his views with allies because of the respect in which he was held. Sir Fred was too modest to tell us this. But those who had the privilege of working for him will know. They will recall the man who looked the part, who played the violin, who could drink a glass of water placed on the ground without using his hands, and a man who could hold a roomful of tough nuts in the palm of his hands with the power of his words and his matchless sense of timing. And for the younger generation, it will, I hope, be of interest for its intriguing look into another world, and another time.
The author as one of Sir Graydon’s suprise guests on This is your Life, 1993.
Mostly however, it is a rattling good story.
Air Chief Marshal Sir Michael Graydon