Gus trained as a wireless operator in Kent before joining the 53rd Welsh Division, where he worked on telephone switchboards. His role was vital, ensuring clear lines of communication between Army Generals and his commander. Gus remained with the Division as they prepared for a pivotal moment: boarding a Liberty ship that carried the entire divisional headquarters to the Normandy beaches on 12th June 1944, D-Day plus six. During the Normandy campaign, Gus’s work was crucial—and dangerous. One of his tasks involved working near Hill 112, a strategically important area under constant threat from German artillery. Gus and his team had to locate a signal post under the cover of darkness, as daytime attempts risked being targeted by enemy fire. The danger of the job was brought home when a convoy Gus was travelling with was bombed, tragically killing an officer in the vehicle behind him, Captain Dunbar. At the Divisional Headquarters, Gus worked tirelessly to relay critical signals and updates, helping to coordinate efforts in what became a turning point of the campaign. Gus’s story goes beyond the role of a telephone operator—it’s a testament to resilience, teamwork, and the critical part he played in bringing the war closer to its end.

Stephen Weall served as a regular officer in the Royal Marines, retiring with the rank of Captain after a career that spanned active service, training, and senior logistical roles. His military life began in 1962, following an unplanned but decisive shift away from the Army and into the Royal Marines, where demanding training gave him both focus and a lasting sense of purpose. Stephen’s first operational deployment was to Aden, a place he recalls initially as relatively calm, before tensions escalated into what became known as the Aden Emergency. As a young troop commander with 45 Commando, he experienced the realities of counter-insurgency operations in some of the harshest terrain of the Radfan Mountains. Life there was basic and exposed: long patrols at altitude, minimal equipment, unreliable radios, and complete reliance on helicopters for water and resupply. Stephen describes this period as “old-fashioned soldiering,” drawing parallels with Victorian frontier warfare, where small units operated independently against lightly armed but resilient tribal fighters. He later took part in operations beyond Aden, including the intervention in East Africa following the mutiny of the Tanganyika Rifles, before returning to the Radfan as the campaign intensified. Despite moments of contact with the enemy, Stephen’s reflections are restrained and thoughtful, focusing less on combat and more on responsibility, leadership, and the realities of command under pressure. Stephen returned to Aden again in 1967, this time as a motor transport officer, during the British withdrawal. It is this period that provokes some of his strongest reflections. He recalls the unease of dismantling a long-standing presence, and the moral discomfort of seeing local employees paid off and left vulnerable as Britain departed. Looking back, Stephen regards Aden as a “forgotten war” — one that lacks clear victory or resolution, but which nonetheless mattered deeply to those who served. For him, its significance lies not in strategy or outcome, but in the professionalism, endurance, and mutual care shown by ordinary servicemen operating in difficult and often thankless circumstances.