Hey guys, Andy here. I have just been given a box of books on the Siege of Malta during World War Two, a military campaign my grandfather Denis was involved in. Denis kept a diary of his ten weeks on the island which he later published as ‘One Man’s Window’ in 1956. And that, as they say, is that; until my father showed me the collection of Denis’ personal items in his possession last Christmas. What started as a quaint idea of publishing a companion volume to One Man’s Window, of odds and sods sketches and photographs, has become an avalanche of additional material and a dive into a man who died when I was a baby.

Family history had Denis both as a talented artist and also pilot; he exhibited at the Royal Academy (RA), a world-renowned art institution based in London, as a teenager before entering the RAF where he became a Spitfire ace with a tally of 7 1/2 confirmed kills. Following the war he became Art Master at Epsom College before retiring to Dorset.

I have always known that my father had a collection of Denis’ works but, until last Christmas, I was not aware of how extensive this trove was. A trickle of materials, in the form of a few photo albums, turned into a flood of documents including letters (including some written from Malta to his wife of just three months), sketch books, log books, clippings of original reviews of One Man’s Window, Spitfire gun camera footage, and Denis’ original Malta diary.

Until now my knowledge and understanding of Denis has been rudimentary; the material I have how makes One Man’s Window appear to be the concentrated tip of an iceberg of which I trying to make sense. The material offer me dates with which I am piecing together like a jigsaw puzzle; some elements slot together nicely, others I look at in bewilderment. The sketches depict some historical moments; listening to the news of Japan’s attack at Pearl Harbour on the wireless and of workers commuting to London on the morning of D- Day “oblivious to it all”. Quite remarkably I have a copy of the Luftwaffe aerial reconnaissance map of Takali the day Denis landed in Malta. Knowing reinforcements were flying in, the Germans deliberately planned a bombing run that evening to destroy as many of the newly arrived Spitfires as possible. 

As expected there are both gaps in the material and inconsistencies in the family stories; researching these has been illuminating. Having gained entry to the RA Schools program he did not exhibit at the RA once as family history suggests, he exhibited at the Summer Showcase three times (1938, 1939, and 1944).  A man of faith and morals, he joined the Peace Pledge Union while at RA Schools, records show he joined the RAF (Volunteer Reserve) in October 1939 and was called up when war broke out a month later. And as for Malta; it was not dumb luck that his Squadron (Sqn) was deployed to the island. Newly married and serving with another unit, Denis was requested by the Squadron Leader bound for Malta who required an experienced and trusted hand to help guide a Sqn of inexperienced pilots.

While the war interrupted Denis’ training at the RA he continued to paint and sketch at every opportunity. His teenage penmanship, workmanlike and heavy handed, improved in a short space of time with his sketch books full of landscapes, studies of people, and portraits of his fellow RAF pilots. The stylistic sketches are full of light and deft touches conveying mood and character bringing scenes and personalities to life. Unfortunately many of his Malta works are lost; he was falsely accused of being a spy by a Maltese man to a policeman who did not believe his war artist credentials. The accusation was taken seriously enough that his works were ripped up on the spot and he spent the night in a cell; gallingly Denis recounts his accuser laughing at him while watching the scene unfold.

And this is where, personally, I struggle. Since my service in the British Army I have been unable to read One Man’s Window without outbursts of emotion; I see too much of myself and my own service in Denis’ experiences. There are also striking historical parallels between Denis and myself, the key one of which is date of his first kill is my birthday. He recounts the highs and lows with, often, brutal honesty (my father recalls Denis saying why publish his story and not be 100% honest) and I can not but help think of my deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan and thinking similar thoughts. And where he was armed with pen and paper, I was armed with a camera. As a portrait photographer I find myself pouring over his portraits, the composition, the shadows, the expressions. However when I research the individuals depicted I regularly find dates and details of how they died and I am struck by the constant loss and the amount of people Denis knew, and sketched, who died in the war.

I am lucky that I have this plethora of first hand material to help inform me of my grandfather. Now comes the investigation and consolidation of the material to make sense of it as there is certainly enough material for the illustrated companion volume to One Man’s Window.