VE80 - Where Feet Did Tread

In a house, an old wooden trunk sits quietly in a corner of a room.  There is nothing particularly extraordinary about its appearance, but what it contains is another matter entirely.  For, when you lift the lid, you find some of the objects that Capt. E John Reed used during his British military service, between 1939 and 1945.  A WW2 military issue steel helmet, sleeping bag and groundsheet; a leather purse containing Belgium, French and German coins; field notes and pencil, a tie and handkerchiefs, and amongst many other treasures, a pair of soldier’s ammunition boots. 

The boots are heavy.  Metal studs nailed into the thickly stitched soles to ensure they survive hours of marching.  The leather moulded to the feet that stepped in them, lovingly polished and full of stories. 

These are the boots that when John Reed was called up to the Territorial Army at the end of August 1939, took part in the reinforcement of Armoury House, Finsbury, London, whilst anti-aircraft barrage balloons rose into the air. 

These are the boots that helped him as a young man of twenty-five years through his officer commission training at Waterloo Barracks and were there as he was promoted to 2nd Lieut with 216/ 63rd Medium Regiment, Royal Artillery in early 1940.

These are the boots that warmed his feet whilst he wrote a final letter to his wife, saying, “We are really very lucky... to love each other so much” before he left the shores of southern England with the British Expeditionary Force.

These are the boots that marched onto French soil whilst he managed a troop of men with 60-pound guns, and crossed the France/Belgium frontier in May 1940, only to later retreat and evacuate at Dunkirk.

These are the boots that paced a room whilst he waited for news of the safe arrival of a baby, and that walked to collect letters sent from home with news of family, written in emerald-green ink and a familiar hand.

These are the boots that stood on the ground where he led practice shoots and gun drills, embarkation and disembarkation, swimming and cliff scaling exercises.

These are the boots that waited as John telephoned home; only three minutes of conversation to help alleviate a wife’s anxiety and depression before audibling ‘pips’ announced the call time was up.

These are the boots that, in June 1944, kept his feet dry as he waited to embark a beach landing craft with a battery of eight guns on board, and later landed on Gold Beach.

These are the boots that were stretchered and returned to England, and that waited cold and unworn, next to his hospital bed.

These are the boots that, like their owner, became battered and tired by the effects of war.

These are the boots that on May 8, 1945, stood quietly with Capt. E John Reed as men slept in until 9:30am, attended a short church service and then walked to serve them the “best lunch the cooks could provide... and all the beer they wanted.”

These are the boots that are on display in a VE Day exhibit at The Postal Museum, London, today.  They serve as a poignant reminder of the commitment and sacrifice a past generation made to defend a people’s freedom.  A generation that ultimately changed history.

This year we commemorate and celebrate the 80th anniversary of VE Day on May 8th.  It is a day not only for celebration of the freedoms won but also a time to pay tribute to those who gave so much, their service and sacrifice, and to honour those that paid the ultimate price. 

It is an opportunity to make our own commitment to world peace and ensure that future generations understand and appreciate its value, whilst consciously remembering those that wear similar boots today and continue to fight for people’s freedom.