Bob Allan
| Eric Robert Allan | |
|---|---|
| Born |
4 September 1924 Cardiff |
| Died | 11 September 2000 (aged 76) |
| Education | Tower Road School, Boston; Boston Grammar School (1930s) |
| Employer | Merchant Navy; ICI |
| Spouse | Margaret Taylor |
| Children | Robert |
Eric Robert "Bob" Allan was educated at Boston Grammar School (1943-1949).
Obituary
From the February 2001 issue of The Old Bostonian
Bob Allan has died at the age of 76 years. His funeral was held at the church of St Mary and St Peter, Hartaxton.
Here follows the eulogy written by his son (Robert Allan) for the funeral:
My father was born on 4th September 1924, son of a Master Mariner, in Cardiff The family moved to Chepstow and eventually to Boston. Educated at Tower Road School and Boston Grammar School, he was already developing a keen interest in extra-curricular activities. At 15 he was in the St John Ambulance and the ATC.
He had ambitions of joining the Air Force, but at 17, was too young, so he followed into the family tradition, the Merchant Service. Soon after training as an apprentice he joined the Russian Convoys, and survived PQ 17's legendary losses, to complete further convoys to North Russia.
Following the war my father continued to enjoy his seafaring career until 1952, when his career was curtailed by meeting a certain Margaret Taylor, who was to become Mrs Allan in 1954.
He continued to be an enthusiastic participant in outside activities, becoming one of the youngest chairman of the Boston British Legion and editing a monthly bulletin. He played rugby, was proficient in judo to instructor level, enjoyed rowing, competing in regattas, was an active thespian with the Boston Playgoers, starring in numerous productions and was a member of the Round Table, doing much charity work. Invited to join the Lodge of Harmony, he was eventually honoured to become Worshipful Master in 1973.
In 1963, we left Boston for Harlaxton, so my father could further his career with ICI. He soon became involved in the local scene, moving across to the Grantham Round Table, joining the squash club, and becoming a member of the Parish Council, on which he served as chairman. He was at the conception and development of the sports and social club and also that of the twinning of Harlaxton with Pontmain. Somewhere during this period he and my mother found time to acquire and breed Basenjis and my father also developed a passion for sailing, owning for some years a small sloop called Basenji.
After his retirement from ICI, he began to develop his idea for an alliance group for Russian Convoy veterans, which would come to fruition as the Russian Convoy Club, bringing together a membership of around 3000 veterans from all parts of the globe. He was personally responsible for forming a relationship between Russian and Allied personnel involved in the North Russia supply convoys, and bringing together an association with German U-boat survivors.
A strong personal bond developed between my father and senior members of the Russian Embassy resulting in the organisation of numerous trips to Russia.
He had the honour of being amongst a group of 11 veterans to accompany the Queen on a Royal visit to the Soviet Union and had been made a freeman of the city of London in 1992.
In 1993 he represented the Russian Convoy Club at the Battle of the Atlantic commemoration on board the Royal Yacht Britannia, which was to be re-visited in 1995 to celebrate VE Day at the heart of the celebrations and spectacular fireworks.
It was during a family holiday in Scotland in the 60's and particularly a visit to Loch Ewe, that my father had mentioned that nothing had been done to honour the memories of the veterans of the Russian Convoys and I think that is where the embryonic concept of the Russian Convoy Club came to be.
Strangely, one of his most notable memories of Loch Ewe was losing a couple of teeth on a plate, whilst having a dip ín the Loch on a summer day. Apparently, the water was much cooler than he had anticipated and the errant teeth chattered out, to smile back at him from the clear waters below.
The most tangible manifestation of this concept came to fruition on 11th September 1999, when the memorial stone at Cove[1] was unveiled in the presence of the Russian Ambassador and a select gathering of club members, local people and serving members of today’s armed forces. MacLeod of Clan MacLeod brought his piper. And poignantly, a steamer sailed out of the loch into the open sea during the ceremony. It was of course, raining - very hard!
One of my father's proudest moments was to be honoured with life presidency of the Russian Convoy Club, at the 1999 AGM, for the foundation and achievements of the club.
My father though a great speaker, was not a talker, he was a doer. He never sought praise and worked for what he felt to be right, uncompromisingly. He was a man of dignity, particularly during his battle against ill-health, and was able to seek solace in his great love of music during recent months when unable to be as active as he was used to being.
It has been said of many people, but I feel sure my father deserved the accolade more than most; "they really don't make them like that anymore"
A word from the President, John Porcher
The one dark shadow on the Millennium year for me was the loss of my dear friend, Bob Allen. He had of course, been ill for some time and I regularly visited him at his home in Harlaxton.
I well remember him insisting on attending to support me as incumbent President at the Centenary Dinner. This was extremely difficult and painful for him, but this was a typical measure of our friendship, which must have spanned nearly 50 years.
I went to Australia last September. We had lunch together including our wives, Margaret and Janet, some three weeks before. As always, he was determined to be his usual cheery self and it was a very happy occasion.
I made a special trip to see him the day before we left. He was, most obviously, very ill but was, as always, determined to try not to show it. We had a lovely couple of hours together, chatting over many things, but I think we both knew in our hearts that this would be the last time we would be together and the warmth of our farewell certainly said this.
I must admit that my emotions were so strong after I left him that I had to pull into the side of the road before leaving Harlaxton.
We had been in Sydney just five days when I received a phone call from my daughter Clare, to say that the family had contacted her with the news that Bob had passed away early that morning.
I obviously could not be present at the funeral and arranged for my daughter to contact Stan Meeds and Horace Battram with the funeral arrangements. They, together with Godfrey Finn, attended the funeral at Harlaxton, representing both the Association and myself. There is much more I could write about Bob, but think that the eulogy delivered by his son, Robert. transcribed above, sums up much of the man and I feel I could do no better than to have it included in the newsletter.
References
- ↑ Russian convoys sailed from Loch Ewe - Imperial War museum]