Tribute to Basil Wales, 1934 - 2022

Basil was the older brother by four years to me, "Dodge", Roger Cyril , named after Cyril Wales, our father. There is a special bond between brothers, especially two brothers. Beyond the blood relationship, there are many important positive characteristics which may be most easily evoked by "the brotherhood of man". Basil's character and great achievements in life are well known by his family, many friends and business associates. I would like to try to briefly outline his importance to me from early childhood. He treated me with respect and taught me the things that every boy needs to know. 
We lived in a World at War. Our father was away with very few brief visits home from the Royal Engineers. So that is where Basil's high octane blood came from. Our mother Iris did an amazing job "keeping calm and carrying on". Basil kept me calm as we huddled in our steel air raid shelter in the middle of our house and listened to dogfights overhead on dark nights. The long-handled shovel and bucket of water in the front hall would deal with any incendiary bomb that penetrated our house. 
The world in recent years, and especially the last two, has made me acutely aware of many great contrasts. We were not taught to live in fear, or hate German people, such as the trusty prisoner-of-war hired to dig our neighbour's garden. But we hated only the ambitions of Germany and Hitler, whom we mocked in cartoons with his big moustache.. We fought as "Cowboys and Indians" with other boys around and were proud to be on either side.  We heeded the warnings of the "Squander Bug".  We were kept healthy by eating a diet of rationed food. I merely carried my fearsome-looking child's gas mask, softened by a fake rubber tongue, to school every day, where Kindergarten kids could hide under a big strong table if there was an air raid warning. On a sunny day in our garden when I was five, a flying bomb came about five hundred feet overhead, but Basil assured me that if the motor cut out, which it did, we would still have thirty seconds and a couple of miles before the massive explosion.
We were mostly well behaved, except for putting Guy Fawkes firecrackers under a tin can on the sidewalk to frighten people, and set fire to the field behind our house a few times.. The Fire Brigade was needed only once, otherwise the neighbours managed to do it. Later we learned to row, and loved sailing small wooden boats. Once, after a Christmas Eve dance in town, we ran across fields to attend Midnight Service at Shenfield Church. We competed in local car rallies, winning once, until the car was badly damaged by a gatepost in an "escape road". Although I was sitting in the Navigator's "suicide seat", and was unharmed since I was wearing the then unusual Delaney Galley fighter-pilot full harness seat belt, we were made to quit, in case I could not finish medical school. Basil went on to support company cars in the Monte Carlo Rally. Our "last road trip" was four days in France for the 24 Hrs, of Le Mans. We had only one short sibling fight.
We both went to Brentwood School, which emphasized classics and science, but there was also a woodworking class. The teacher, Mr. Farley, recognized Basil's mechanical talents and taught him an Engineering Drawing Certificate. Later I got the Fine Woodworking prize because I wanted to be a surgeon. .Basil went on to win a Staff Apprentiiceship at Engines Branch in Coventry to become a Graduate Engineer, superior to many university courses. You never know whom you may inspire to achieve a great career.  Many other people are much more qualified to tell "the rest of the story" than I am.


Thank you Basil for your love and care for me. May God Bless You and grant your Soul Eternal Rest.