Eighty years after the end of the Second World War, and in commemoration of VE80, I’m sharing a never-before-seen collection of images taken by my grandfather during his service as a British Army mechanic.
These images offer a glimpse into the life of a young man from the West of Scotland, like many others, catapulted into a war without choice. Many images capture everyday moments: his friends, the vehicles he worked on, and quiet times by the sea. In contrast, other images show distant scenes of conflict in images assumed to be captured in Athens, reflecting the harsh and cruel reality faced by many at the time.
Much the same as the majority of men and women who were fortunate enough to return home at the end of WWII, my grandad was reluctant to speak of his time in the war, and so there are very few personal stories, heightening the personal significance of these images. In sharing these photographs from his time as a mechanic with the British Army, I want to honor his story in pictures to commemorate VE80.
Photographing our day-to-day lives is an act that is so widely accessible, but this hasn't always been the case. In past times, photography was reserved for the wealthy and for professionals, as early cameras in the 19th century were bulky, expensive, and required greater technical expertise. Time and technology moved on quickly, and cameras became more accessible to a wider range of buyers throughout general populations.
It’s unclear when my grandad, Charlie—who was a carpenter by trade—first found photography. Along with some prints which were shot during his time serving in the Second World War, I’m fortunate to also own one of Charlie’s cameras—a Zeiss Ikon Maximar 207/3. This is a folding bellows plate camera that uses 6.5 x 9 cm quarter-plate or sheet film. It’s not the most beginner-friendly device, and I often wonder where my grandad picked up his photographic skills. The story goes that he traded a pack of cigarettes with a German soldier to get this camera, which is a tale that raises more questions than it answers. I’ve often wondered what that interaction might have looked like, and how that exchange took place. I usually end up at the conclusion that soldiers and Army personnel are just people, and so the exchange happened between human beings who temporarily discarded the barriers of their conflicting roles.
The Workshop and Vehicles
Charlie served as a mechanic for the Royal Army Service Corps during his time in the army and was assigned across a number of different countries across Europe and North Africa, servicing and repairing a range of Army vehicles including half-tracks and ambulances. These images show a range of vehicles, some of the other mechanics, and, as one caption states, Reg's ambulance.
The Balcony
Many images in the collection have been taken from this balcony, which I believe was part of the accommodation Charlie shared with his unit mates. The view, assumed to be in Greece, is one which was overlooked whilst enjoying a cup of tea, washing clothing, and smoking.
The Camaraderie of Brothers in Arms
There are many images showing friends and fellow servicemen that Charlie bonded with during his time in the Army. Many of the images are sadly not captioned, and so it is impossible to tell who is who. The shot below shows Charlie on the left, and so one of his friends must have borrowed the camera to take this shot.
A group shot shows unit mates, some in mechanics’ overalls, posing for a group photograph in an incomplete building structure, with canisters of gasoline and oil.
Charlie, in the image below, is smiling at the back in the center of the image, posing with his unit mates.
I am impressed with the way in which Charlie has composed this group shot. Arranging group poses is always a challenge, but this arrangement works very well.
Documented Action
While most of my grandad’s photographs lack captions, a few depicting distant conflict carry his handwritten inscriptions penciled on the back, including one labeled "Spitfire machine gunning E.L.A.S." These rare captions were invaluable, helping to identify approximate locations and timelines, in this case linked to the turbulent Dekemvriana clashes in Athens during December 1944–January 1945. These photographs capture acts of war from afar, offering a mechanic’s perspective on the war’s harsh realities.
The image below, at first glance, just appears like any other in the balcony series. However, this one features smoke and fires in the distance, caused by shelling from Sherman tanks. Charlie wrote some context behind the scene as an image caption, stating that the shelling was a retaliation for ELAS members attempting to set the tank on fire.
I wonder what he was thinking while shooting these images of conflict—wondering about the safety of himself or others, including his ambulance-driving friends—and also wondering what repairs would be necessary for vehicles such as this one that he documented, which arrived in the workshop in Athens in November 1944.
"Shellbursts at stadium" is another act of war witnessed from the balcony. I wonder just how many instances like this happened during Charlie’s time there, and how that felt.
Charlie captured the moment that a shell exits the 25-pounder—a large field gun.
The Beach
It seems that there was still time to soak up some sunshine, and these images could be mistaken for tourist snaps taken at another point in history. I imagine days like this would be important in the midst of unimaginable horrors that come hand in hand with war. Would these soldiers and servicemen be able to switch off from their roles in order to enjoy a peaceful day by the sea, as it seems?
The final image to be shared from this collection shows hands gently holding a large butterfly—feels like a quiet, almost sacred moment. Amidst the machinery of war and the unspoken trauma, this image captures stillness, fragility, and humanity. It reminds us that even in the harshest of circumstances, there are moments where we are reminded of beauty, connection, and life.
In sharing these photographs, I hope to preserve my grandad Charlie’s legacy, but also remind us of the countless untold stories of those who served, endured, and survived—and those who did not. As we mark VE80, these images remind us that victory came at a heavy cost, felt even by those like my grandfather, who served quietly behind the lines.
Images sourced from the author’s personal family archive and used with permission.
Thank you for sharing these! I don't think enough photos like these are shared often enough without being criticized. I find them fascinating. And with the cell phone age, no one seems to appreciate what someone like your grandad had to do to get these and bring them home.