Father

Tom Mursell, for the Memorial service

Mother / Dil, has settled quietly into Petworth Cottage Nursing Home. She is aware of the service here today and this morning was a wonderful moment for me as she asked that I send you her love, thoughts and thanks for coming here for Peter’s memory. This is echoed by all of us in the family.

Father always looked forward never backwards so some of what I’m going to say comes from the memoirs he and Mum wrote on the computer a few years back.

He loved sport of most forms – Swimming, Golf, Skiing, Skating, Tennis, Squash, Fives, Cricket, Soccer, Shooting, Climbing, Sailing, Power-Boating, Canals, Scuba Diving, Billiards, Snooker, Flying and even Water Polo. Really the only thing he didn’t do was running!! An adrenalin junky perhaps!!! He enjoyed the challenge each of these sports produced and he excelled at every single one. James and I can remember playing him squash, we had difficulty in winning a game (if ever) and when he developed tennis elbow he just became ambidextrous, he stood in the middle of the court and we’d rush round like demented terriers after the ball!

At Bedales he enjoyed swimming and to this day, he holds the 2 and 4 lengths record. Why? They were allowed a running start!!

Charles introduced him to flying in 1933 and they would take part in competitions, father would navigate. 1936 saw them fly a Short Scion to India and back to try and interest Maharajas in the plane, taking part in an air race from Madras to Delhi at the same time. During this journey they had to overfly some countries that forbade aerial photography and therefore your camera had to be sealed in a box by customs. Father built his own box and was happy for the seal to be applied. Shortly after take off he’d slide the base off the box and photograph to his hearts content! On this trip they flew over the Himalayas and during this part of the flight they decided to see how high they could fly before passing out!

Going through father’s photo albums I discovered an article he wrote in Flight Magazine, Jan 5th 1939. here’s a short section:
“I won’t bother you with how it started, but the main theme of the story begins on the hard at Hamble with a small 40hp aeroplane which had just been converted from wheels to floats. Neither of us knew anything about seaplanes. Charles had once done a few hours with an Avian on floats, but that was some time ago. The business was, therefore, more or less new to both of us; in addition, Charles always was rather an optimist, otherwise we should probably never have started on this peculiar form of aviating.
Charles did the first test flight alone, and Jemima behaved herself excellently. The next day, however, when we loaded her up with equipment, a two-gallon petrol tin and full main tank, we found it was rather a different story.
I am not light (or so I am told on quite reliable authority) and Charles is no streak of skin and bones, and Jemima seemed to resent the load we had put aboard her, particularly, I think, my own 180lb so far aft of the CG. Anyway, after two attempts to take off we had to lighten her by removing 2 gallons of petrol..
We also decided to consider this matter of take-off somewhat more thoroughly, and after a little discussion developed a sort of “team work-out,” as I believe an American might express it. It went like this: On taxiing out to a suitable point we turned into wind while I, who had now changed to the front seat, scanned the water ahead for the sight of an approaching gust. On notification of one about 200 yards ahead Charles would open up and coax her up onto the step as quickly as possible. As soon as she was up on the step I would stand up as high as possible above my seat, and on hitting the gust Charles would slightly ease back on the stick and at the same time shout “Down!” whereupon I momentarily relieved the aircraft of my 180-odd pounds by dropping down to a seated posture.
In theory, provided I didn’t fall straight through the aeroplane, we should now be in the air, and by ------ we were!

During the war he served with the Air Transport Auxillary (affectionately know as Ancient Tattered Airmen) ending the war as Senior Commander in charge of training and recruitment. He flew over 140 different types of plane and logged more than 1500hrs flying. In September I met up with veterans of the ATA to collect his war badge. I met many pilots and ground crew who spoke warmly of him. Two notable conversations. Firstly a pilot who told me he’d been reprimanded by father for doing a barrel roll over the runway. “He docked me two days pay, I got off exceedingly lightly” The second an American who’s late mother, Ann Woods-Kelly, was one of the American lady pilot volunteers. He came up to me and said “Hi Tom , I’m Woody! Your Dad and my Mom had great e-mail exchanges!” He told me that there had been a long correspondence about the future of the veterans association with about 8 people “in the loop”. Father and Anne were of one opinion whilst others disagreed strongly. “Your Dad was always so concise and clear with his correspondence” said Woody. “My MOM copied me with all the correspondence and one day I sent her a mail headed “FOR YOUR EYES ONLY – HOW DID THEY WIN THE WAR?” Two weeks later I received a mail from your Dad. “Dear Woody – WE WERE DIFFERENT IN THOSE DAYS – Peter”

After the war boats became a major part in his life with many trips with Charles. Baltic, Ireland, Med, Atlantic. There was no Sat Nav in those days so he studied astronavigation for the Atlantic crossing and our course was plotted across a plain sheet of chart paper with us to arrive with our destination on the nose (I was 15 and this seemed like magic!). It was returning to Heathrow after this trip that gave Dad one of his memorable chuckles. He’d grown a full beard and looked most distinguished. It was late at night as we walked down the concourse to be greeted by Mum. Dad was visibly excited to see her again and gave her a hug only for her then to say, in a very loud voice, “AND IF YOU THINK YOUR COMING TO BED WITH THAT ON YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING”. Both Dad and I were sooooooo embarrassed, thank goodness there weren’t too many people around. Within 30 minutes of getting home there was a clean shaven Dad!!!!!

The final chapter in boating was the Fanny Grace – a 50’ narrow boat, built in 1970 and cruised till sold in 1993. Dad arranged friends as crew who swapped with others mid week and somehow he never seemed to have to go far to collect a car to get home at the end. Meticulous planning was one of his fortes.

This all happened whilst he had his “day jobs”, farming County Council etc. yet to us, his children, he never seemed phased by it or short of time for any of us. To us he was just DAD but he did have this knack of never having to tell us off. Somehow we just knew when we’d done the wrong thing without him having to tell us!

During the last few years he devoted all his energies to caring for Mum. He organised a small army of carers and they all joined the family circle whilst at Taints. His people skills shone, as always. He organised trips out in the car with a carer driving. One carer would get into the car and say – “Sat Nav on Peter” – he’d then direct her where to go, much more reliable than the modern equivalent!!!!

To Dad a problem was always a challenge and he seemed to have the knack of being able to view such things from all angles and come up with (usually) the most stupidly simple commonsense solution you couldn’t imagine how you didn’t think of it yourself!

A newspaper interviewer once wrote “Mr Mursell has a twinkle in his eye and a smile never far from his lips”

Our memories of Peter make us smile too.