The enigma of the flying boot

A curious WWII badge left to ANN CHAPMAN by her mother turned out to be the insignia of a club dubbed the 'most exclusive in the world'.

- ANN CHAPMAN

When Anzac Day comes around, my thoughts go immediately to my parents, both veterans of World War II. Both served in the Middle East - my mother as an Royal Air Force nurse and my father as a second lieutenant in the NZ Army.

However, their service remains an utter mystery to me, as does a little silver brooch of a flying boot my mother always wore on her jacket, especially when attending Anzac Day ceremonies. I never heard my parents or their friends talk about it and it was only later, as an adult, that I understood its significance.

During my childhood, my parents never spoke of that part of their lives to me or my three siblings, and we children were too self-absorbed to ask. Every evening, they'd knock back a few drinks, and explain that it was the war that resulted in their drinking.

Visitors, usually ex-army or navy, would regularly come for pre-dinner drinks once the sun was over the yardarm. There were murmurings, low voices which became silent when I approached, entered the room or was seen lurking nearby. These regular drinks with former servicemen and women were a kind of therapy that we, as children, were not party to.

Now that they are both dead, the opportunity to understand what their lives. were like fighting and nursing during a world war is lost.

I know they met on active service. My father, Wally Johnson, was serving in Greece, Crete and the desert, as a member of the 20th battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Howard Kippenberger. My mother, Ursula Hughes, was an English nursing sister who joined the RAF.