Book review: Just a Forgotten Hero by Rob Moffit

Desmond Clifford

Rob Moffat came across the story of a Welsh World War 2 airman who was buried in an unmarked grave in Liverpool in 1985 along with an appeal to find out more about him.

This book arises from that appeal and the author’s desire to record the story of William Roch Griffiths, originally from Barmouth.

Griffiths was on board a Lancaster bomber shot down near Brussels in June 1942 and was the only crew survivor.

Griffiths survived the war only to retreat to the margins of society and die prematurely unremarked and without mourners.

Rob Moffat set out to trace the airman’s family and to put some flesh on the bones of the story.

A pool of sadness hangs over the tale in spite of its heroic qualities.

Gunner

Griffiths was the aircraft’s gunner, seated at the back of the plane and the prime target for attack from chasing fighters – knocking out the gunner left the plane practically defenceless.

On the fateful night the plane was hit, Griffiths helped one of his colleagues, Norman Hartley, into his parachute and pushed him out the aircraft.

It seems Hartley’s parachute failed to open and no trace of him was ever recorded.

Griffiths then parachuted, successfully. The other crew members remained on board to take their chances on a crash landing; all lost their lives. Griffiths was the only survivor.

It was by no means a given that parachuting was safer than crash-landing. Air crews were apparently barely trained for parachutes for the shocking reason that the injury rate during training was too high and the RAF needed the crews on active service.

Flight crews had almost a two in three chance of being killed, wounded or captured; just imagine.

The resistance

Having survived the parachute, Griffiths knocked a few doors and was sympathetically received. He was passed into the hands of the resistance – the “Comet Line” – and bundled on a long and dangerous escape journey through Belgium, via Paris, through France and across the Pyrenees into Spain.

Contrary to popular belief Spain was not an easy and welcoming safe-haven; the Franco authorities supported Germany and escapees had to be vigilant and resourceful.

Nonetheless, Griffiths eventually made his way to the British Embassy in Madrid and from there to safety.

The story is told in a matter of fact kind of way. On the one hand, it is hair-raising Boys Own stuff but, on the other, an “everyday” story, if there is such a thing, of the bravery and resilience necessary to fight a war.

Had Griffiths lived a happy post-war life it might be possible to celebrate the heroic aspects of his story more positively. As it is, the intense sadness of his later life is only magnified by the privations he endured and the bravery he showed as a dutiful airman.

The book has its frustrations. While Griffiths’ story absolutely deserves to be told, it is sometimes a bit of a struggle to follow it. The narrative wood is obscured by the genealogy trees.

Genealogy

Rob Moffat put in a lot of work to find information Griffiths’ family, working with a small group of like-minded colleagues online. Genealogy is the author’s passion and he describes this work with microscopic attention.

Seemingly every phone call and e-mail are documented, including the time of day they were sent. Even readers with a diligent interest in genealogy may find this just a little too much.

However, the book has heart and purpose. The author is dedicated to recording the story of a man whose contribution to the war should not be forgotten, along with the astonishing bravery of the civilians in Belgium and France who helped him and many others like him evade capture.

All those phone calls and emails paid off.  Moffett and his colleagues eventually pieced together the salient facts of Griffiths’ life after the war.

He married and had two daughters and was recorded living and working in Rhyl.

With almost unimaginable tragedy, one of his daughters, Susan May, died aged 3 from an accidental electric shock. It seems the emotional impact of this, on top of his wartime experiences, was too much for Williams.

He descended into alcoholism, separated from his family and lost contact with them altogether.

At the time of his death he was living in a hostel for the homeless in Liverpool.

It’s a desperately sad tale, magnified by the bravery and honour attached to his war service.

Appendices to the main text record the available factual information about the crew members with Griffiths in the stricken Lancaster; the operational history of the aircraft; the escapees Griffiths met during his escape; and information on the civilians who helped Griffiths escape through the Comet Line escape network.

Bravery

The author pays full tribute to the remarkable bravery of these people, motivated by simple patriotism and who faced the most terrible retribution if caught. Unlike servicemen, they had no protection, even in principle, from the Geneva Convention or any other code.

Many were executed after torture. The author says he found this part of the book the most rewarding to write; it’s the most rewarding to read too.

I lived in Brussels for a period in the early years of this century and I note that some of the people who helped Griffiths were still alive and among my neighbours.

The author invested very heavily in recording this story and is sensitive to both the debt owed to airmen like William Griffiths and the tragedy of his life.

It would have been interesting and relevant to hear more about the author’s motivation for engaging so personally with the story.

At any rate, his aim was to record a life and a contribution which ought not be forgotten and this he has done.