My father's one hundredth birthday

If he had still been alive, today would have been my father's one-hundredth birthday.

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George Cyril Cordery was the eleventh child of Frederick Thomas Cordery and Eleanor Cordery (née Kemp) and was born on Monday 17th May 1926. This was five days after the end of the General Strike, a strike that his father was actively involved in as one of the leaders of the West Ham tram drivers.

The earliest known photograph of my father.

He passed his 11+ exam and attended what later became Stratford Grammar School, but his education was interrupted when the building was damaged by bombing during the London Blitz. He left school and began working as a clerk during the day and as a member of the Home Guard (and later the National Fire Service) during the evening and at weekends. (He and his brother Stanley joined the Home Guard in 1940, but George was kicked out when they discovered that he was only fourteen! He then joined the National Fire Service who seemed to be less worried about his age.)

My father as a young man.

He was called up for National Service when he was 18, and after initial training at the Durham Light Infantry Depot in Durham, he was sent to Woolwich for further training with the Royal Artillery. When they realised that he had studied trigonometry at school, he was trained as a battery surveyor and joined the Forward Observation Troop attached to the 53rd (Worcester Yeomanry) Airlanding Light Regiment, Royal Artillery. The regiment formed part of the 6th Airborne Division and he therefore took part in the Ardennes counter-offensive, the crossing of the Rhine (Operation Varsity), and the drive across Germany that ended up in Wismar on the coast of the Baltic.

My father in uniform. It is thought that this was taken just before he was posted to Burma.

My father at the Operation Varsity anniversary event at the Royal Artillery Museum, Woolwich. He was immensely proud of having served with the 6th Airborne Division.

Post-war, the 6th Airborne Division was sent Palestine, but rather than go to the Middle East, George was posted to Burma as part of the British Training Mission to Burma. There he became part of the team  tasked with training the Chin Hills Battalion to become the Burmese Army's anti-tank battalion.

During his time in Burma he was also involved in combatting dacoits (armed robbers) who were plaguing the border area with India as well as protecting the family of the assassinated leader of Burma, Aung San. He was also in Calcutta during the pre-independence riots, and took part in the armed suppression of those riots.

He returned home and was demobbed ... and very soon afterwards he married Kathleen Eva Jackson (my mother).

My mother and father on their wedding day.

Between 1950 and 1962 they had three children; myself, my younger brother, and our younger sister. They spent their first few years of married life in Sydenham and then Kenton before buying their forever home in Corbets Tey, Upminster in 1958.

He returned to office work, and trained to become a bookkeeper and later an accountant. After working for a large property company, his brother Charles suggested that he move over to the Alliance Assurance, an insurance company. Over the years this company became the Sun Alliance, the Sun Alliance & London, and then the Royal & Sun Alliance Group, and by the time of his retirement in 1990, he was a senior management accountant.

My mother and father at a family wedding.

Throughout his life, he was a keen supporter of West Ham United Football Club, and for many years he worked as a matchday stile man serving the North Bank of the Boleyn Ground, Upton Park. He was also a very keen gardener – something that he had learned from his father – and particularly enjoyed growing vegetables.

My mother and father in our conservatory. This was taken at New Year 2000.

My father during a visit to Marcus Street in the East End. He lived there whilst he was a child.

My father in the care home where he spent the last years of his life.

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I think that every member of my family – his children, his grandchildren, and his great grandchildren – wish that both my mother and father were alive today to celebrate his one hundredth birthday.

We dearly miss them.