People who tattooed my life #10: Jim Bodley

My uncle Jim was born as the armistice bells were ringing out at the end of World War 1.  He started as an apprentice glassmaker at Chance Bros in Smethwick in 1932 following in the footsteps of his dad and grandad.  His granddad made lighthouse lenses, there's an example of his work in the Thinktank museum on Birmingham.

He was conscripted into the Army once war broke out aged 22. His mechanical ability found him placed in the REME - Royal Engineers - in the British Expeditionary Force.  Jim was evacuated from Dunkirk which terrified him.  He told me once " I was the bravest man in the whole war, because I was shitting myself every second I was there but I got on with it".

Jim was redeployed back to Europe in 1941 to fight. He never spoke much about his experiences in the war. They hurt him too profoundly, but he did tell me of two life-affecting experiences.

In 1945 the Royal Engineers were seconded to assist a Canadian outfit that was to liberate the Buchenwald concentration camp. Ostensibly there to keep the vehicles going , Jim ended up digging graves and burying victims. Bearing in mind this was a gentle glassmaking apprentice who knew his way around a machine not some heard-skinned warrior , we will never know just how manifestly this affected Jim.

The second incident seems tiny, but Jim had tears in his eyes when he related it.  When Jim's unit was engaged in mopping up just before VE day, he was tasked with obtaining drinking water from a German civilian home. He knocked the door of an old woman who scowled then wandered indoors to fill containers.

She bought them out. Jim thanked her, and she looked him in the eyes and spat in his face before slamming the door.

I don't know why that was particularly affecting to Jim but it was.

Upon returning home, Jim was a changed man. His confidence was shot.  "Bad nerves" is what medics called it back in the forties and fifties. Jim went back to Chance Bros to work, but no way could he live on his own, or make a success of a relationship.  He moved in with my Mom ( his sister) and dad.  Looking back, this might have been hard for Dad, but there was never obvious tension in our home. Jim was just , well JIM.  He had his own bedroom, and a chair in front of the TV in the kitchen diner and pretty much kept out of everyone's way.

He had a very brusque manner, and absolutely no tact. He knew this so tended to sneak up to his room if we had visitors.  He used to stay and chat to his brothers if they came for a cup of tea to or from work,and I recall with a smile the great guffawing laughs the used to raise together.  When his Sister  in law would visit he'd speedily withdraw however. Jim looked very much like his late brother George - Gerties husband - and she would weep uncontrollably every time she saw him !  Mind you, as I recall Aunt Gert used to weep uncontrollably at everything, all the time. "A good job people can't cry themselves to death" my mom would say !

My earliest Christmas memory, and the reason for this piece,  involves Uncle Jim.  In our Great Arthur Street house in the late sixties, uncle Jim would sit me on his knee in front of the fire and would help me wrote a letter to Santa.  He would spend hours patiently documenting my message to Santa with my wants and desires, ALWAYS in blue ink.

Then when it was ready he would steady my hand and help me feed the letter safely into the fire's flames.

"Watch for the blue flames", he'd tell me "..thats the words going to Santa !". Every time I saw them and was thrilled !

Jim was a fierce critic of mine as a teenager.  I was everything he felt uncomfortable with I think: leather jacketed noisy, long haired gobshite.  Any HINT of disrespect towards my Mom or Dad and Jim would tear a strip off me.  I never hated him for it though. He was usally right.

When my planned apprenticeship at Chance Bros came to nothing (the year I left school was the year manufacturing started to die in the UK) I went to sixth form college.  I HATED it, and quit six months early meaning I got worse A level grades than I should have. There was no work or opportunities around in 1981. Nothing.

Then one day Jim had found an advert in the evening paper "Aptitude tests for an elite computer course, Dudley college".  He said " Yow'm supposed to be clever, why don't you try for this ? ".
 I'd never heard of computers but went anyway. I passed with flying colours and was on an interesting course while being paid £23.50 a week. Thanks Jim !

I met Kayla on that course. For some reason Jim was absolutely delightful with her, making her laugh and doing daft stuff.  After a couple of years of dating , Jim had make Kayla cry with laughter as he made our dog Pete pull a cap off his head, Jim said to her " I'm only being nice to you so you'll marry him".
We were gobsmacked !

He really loved our dog Pete.  Jim dozed off once afternoon, and when he awoke, Pete had nipped through his socks so he could bite Jims toenails!  This was the funniest thing Jim had ever seen, and had laughing cramps for hours off that !

My course led to a great job as a computer operator at GKN. This heralded a new relationship for Uncle Jim and I. I'd finish shift at midnight, and by a miracle there was always a fresh pot of tea made when I arrived home, and some biscuits.

  He was always interested to hear about my day and my job.  One weekend when I was on overtime I took him into work to show him around. He was enraptured, and particularly loved the printroom with its mass laser printer. He loved that I paid fair housekeeping to my Mom despite my meagre wage without being asked ( it was my privilege). He would open up and tell me about his work life. He redesigned an assembly line to be faster, more frugal and have 50% less breakage than before. He did not have the confidence to accept the award Chances wanted to give him so he credited a work colleague instead.

  Out of the blue Jim said he would lend me the money to buy a car on the huge condition that I would always drive mom anywhere she wanted to go at any time.  Would I ! THANKS JIM ! It was my pleasure to drive my folsk around, and indeed my Uncle Jim to his caravan in Bridgnorth that he loved so very much.

Jim was diagnosed with cancer soon after I asked Kayla to marry me. He was pleased, but never made it to the wedding. I still remember the last time I drove him home from his caravan, knowing he was dying. He looked around and said " Its bloody lovely here though ay it?".

 Jim died soon after never having married, and unmourned by many who found him grumpy or strange. I still miss him to this day.

After his funeral I found that Jim had taken all my car loan repayments and saved them for Kayla and I to use as a deposit on our first house. He never spent a penny of it and left Mom with strict instructions. We bought a lovely house with the help of that deposit.

I write this looking at Jim's Chance Brothers' fishing Championship trophy from 1974 which is on my work desk, with tears dripping off my chin and a smile on my face.  I really miss the grumpy old bugger. Happy Christmas Uncle Jim. And thanks.