Sunday we got up even earlier than we had any day so far, bolted breakfast and stumbled aboard the coach. Headed back out to Rattlesden to a service at its beautiful old (1100 AD, I believe) church.   During the service there was mention of a prayer kneeler dedicated to the men of the 447th and the stained glass window the 447th had donated to the church years ago.  

After the service the vets (and I, because I was tending Daddy) were invited to lunch in the homes of several local families. The food was really wonderful- almost all homemade, the beer flowed and the hosts were gracious and respectful to the vets. Found out later the people in the tour who were merely family of the vets, rather than having my slightly more necessary role, had been taken to Rattlesden village hall and fed sandwitches. Lucky me!

After that luncheon we bussed out to Felsham village to partake of instant coffee or juice and various cakes, sit at tables looking at each other while being watched by the citizens of Felsham. I suspect that the intent of the visit was to mix a little, but who these people had been to the 447th I never understood. After an hour of this, hup hup! Back on the bus and to a memorial service at 447th memorial, built and maintained by 447GB in honor of the vets who had been at the field and died in the War.  

This was a simple but touching ceremony which affected the vets noticeably. The service was followed by a photo session of the vets, where I finally met Rudi! 

On his own, he'd brought his wife, daughters and granddaughter to England to attend most of the same events that we had, except for the things put on strictly by the tour group. He and Daddy spent several minutes exchanging memories while I watched, then we drifted apart, running into each other a couple more times before everybody's departure.

That evening at the Gonville in Cambridge, we all had our Farewell Dinner, attended by Rudi and family. Russ Chase asked Daddy whether he'd remembered something and Daddy answered, "You know, I think I do remember that...". I suddenly realized that in the course of the weekend Daddy had gone from insisting he had no memories whatever of things people (usually Russ Chase) asked him about, to telling different stories than I'd ever heard from him before. And I've heard all his stories.

Next morning everybody else left for London; Daddy and I caught the train for Norwitch where we visited Norman Tuck and his wife Jacque, in a genealogical side trip recounted elsewhere.  In Norwitch I finally found out that in the past several years barleywine had degenerated from a classy specialty ale into a cheap strong beer closely assocoated with street alcoholics.

 After visiting the Tucks we got on the train to London, found the Harrington House and rejoined the tour group. Next morning, which was earlier still than any other waking time on this tour, we got on the coach and made it to Heathrow.

As we neared the terminal there was a van pulled over by the side of the road and a Middle Eastern- dressed couple was on the grass verge being closely attended by battle- suited police.  

Heathrow is even more overwhelming than Chicago's O'Hare and I won't even go into it here. Our plane was delayed then its departure moved up so we were suddenly herded into another waiting area where we waited completely incommunicado from the outside world for an hour. A big screen at the end of the waiting lounge showed the preliminary news of the 2nd London bombings and I realized with some regret that anybody who knew we were leaving London today would have to wait til some time tonight, at the earliest, to hear from us that we were ok. Sigh. At least that was the closest we came to danger.

The rest of the trip was normally boring alternating with hassles of cancelled and rescheduled flights; all in all not worth talking about. Both Daddy and I appear to have gotten back home in one piece, having greatly enriched our lives by this trip. The end.

... see the full length uncut version, with sound and pictures, on Daddy's WWII website, coming when I can get around to it.