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A message from the Falklands: The life and gallant death of David Tinker : from his letters and poems
A message from the
the life and gallant death of David Tinker : from his letters and poems
the life and gallant death of David Tinker : from his letters and poems
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First published January 1, 1982
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June 9, 2025I imagine my family acquired this as part of a collection of 'peace literature', but despite the title it actually has very little to do with the Falklands War - as indicated by the opening comment that some readers may wish to start at page 168 (out of 200)!
David Tinker's father had the good fortune to be a published writer, and he presumably used those connections to get this memoir in print, back in the days when self-publishing was a lot more difficult than it is now. David was a highly literate young man who wrote entertaining and expressive letters back home which remind me very much of the correspondence between members of my own family (lovingly preserved up in the attic for the possible perusal of future generations) that likewise took place in the days before email and free mobile phone minutes. As a poet he was no Wilfred Owen, at least on the evidence of the juvenile selectively presented here, although the later work he had taken up again just before he died was seemingly destroyed by the same explosion that killed him.
The book is an interesting snapshot into 1970s and 80s life, and the Royal Navy of that date (David had no ambitions to command and decided to specialise in the unglamorous work of a supply officer; he appears to have become increasingly unenthused by his chosen career and was hoping to spend as much time on shore with his new wife as possible). It is also an interesting glimpse into the excitement with which the Navy initially greeted the outbreak of war, which came as a godsend at a time of budget cuts and general low prestige. And to some degree it is a condemnation of the conduct of the Falklands war, although not nearly so much as one would assume from the cover.
David Tinker's father had the good fortune to be a published writer, and he presumably used those connections to get this memoir in print, back in the days when self-publishing was a lot more difficult than it is now. David was a highly literate young man who wrote entertaining and expressive letters back home which remind me very much of the correspondence between members of my own family (lovingly preserved up in the attic for the possible perusal of future generations) that likewise took place in the days before email and free mobile phone minutes. As a poet he was no Wilfred Owen, at least on the evidence of the juvenile selectively presented here, although the later work he had taken up again just before he died was seemingly destroyed by the same explosion that killed him.
The book is an interesting snapshot into 1970s and 80s life, and the Royal Navy of that date (David had no ambitions to command and decided to specialise in the unglamorous work of a supply officer; he appears to have become increasingly unenthused by his chosen career and was hoping to spend as much time on shore with his new wife as possible). It is also an interesting glimpse into the excitement with which the Navy initially greeted the outbreak of war, which came as a godsend at a time of budget cuts and general low prestige. And to some degree it is a condemnation of the conduct of the Falklands war, although not nearly so much as one would assume from the cover.
January 29, 2024
A good biography of this Royal Navy Officer who was killed in the Falklands Conflict of 1982 on HMS Glamorgan. Compiled by his father using letters that he sent to his family and wife.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews