Owen Patrick Flynn

This story and photos are shared by the Trust with kind permission from Patricia Tomlinson neé Flynn

Owen Flynn was born in London on the 5th November 1916 (Guy Fawkes Day). He was the third child of John Patrick Flynn and Mary Ruth Flynn.

He was the much loved youngest son who had a very normal childhood and when he left school went to work in Fleet Street at one of the national papers. Owen liked to draw and when I was a little girl, he used to bring home end of roll paper from the newspaper print room for my brother and I to draw pictures on. He was always cheerful and liked to joke around. He and his sister both had motorbikes and they liked to go for rides in the country.

My aunt Kit used to cut my hair and my Uncle Owen would pull faces at me and call me either Pie Face or Peek Frean - as they were my initials.

He joined the Territorial Army just before World War ll started and would go at weekends for training. When the war started he joined up and went for training in Scotland. He used to write to my elder sister about the films he had seen. He was a big fan of Bing Crosby and loved his version of the song ‘White Christmas’ which was released in 1941.

He served in 62 Anti Tank Regiment, Royal Artillery and his unit was sent over to France in June 1944 for the Normandy invasion, landing at some point between D-Day and D+2.  He took part in ‘Operation Goodwood’ which took place around Caen on the 18th-20th July. Owen Flynn was in his tank on the 18th July and the young soldier who was lookout was killed, so my uncle took his place and he was killed too. He was 27 years old. That day there were over 2,000 casualties.

On his 21st birthday in 1937, he was given a gold Tissot watch - this watch was badly damaged when my uncle was killed, but my Grandfather, Owen’s Dad, had the watch repaired and it was given to my brother, Michael on his 21st birthday in 1956.

Michael at Owen's grave (#I.B.3) at Banneville-la-Campagne War Cemetery in July 1990. He can be seen wearing Owen's watch

I was 6 years old when my Uncle Owen died, but I remember it was a terrible blow to our family and my Grandmother was heartbroken. She could never listen to ‘White Christmas’ sung by Bing Crosby. It brought back all the pain.

I am now the only living relative left that knew Owen Patrick Flynn. I still miss him.