The Remarkable Woman - © Bernard J Denver 2005
The Remarkable Woman is a fascinating life story of courage, romance and survival from a war zone.
The Remarkable Woman is one Rogelia Odo Denver whose determination and strength overcame devastation, military rules and strange new countries for the sake of true love, truth and family.
ROGELIA ODO DENVER
8th December 1910 – 16th March 2005
Born into a family of two brothers and two sisters, Rogelia was always the baby and her small stature (being only 5ft at best) confirmed that position. Her maiden name Odo can be traced to Scandinavia and thence to Central Europe/Southern Europe before an unknown ancestor went to Gibraltar. In fact a Bishop Odo was largely responsible for the Bayeux Tapestry.
Gibraltarians were always known as Rock Scorpions and Rogelia Odo soon proved this description to be true of her. Rebellion started at an early age resulting in many clashes with authority in the form of her educators, the nuns. If she thought an injustice was occurring, she acted verbally and physically. The result in simple terms was being thrown out of all schooling. That meant that she could not read or write as we know it.
Later in life the disease of glaucoma was discovered which doctors thought might have started when Rogelia was very young. This could have been a major factor in her inability to concentrate on lessons in the classroom, however, it was not the factor defining her nature. This was one feisty child who would express her thoughts verbally without consideration resulting, as you can imagine, in many problems throughout her life. Yet because of her absolute faith in total honesty (never even capable of telling a lie) her words and actions always resulted in producing something good. Her generosity in giving knew no bounds right to the very end.
It was during her growing-up period in Gibraltar that she developed many friendships and an extra-ordinarily close relationship with one of her sisters, Ernestina, which lasted through many privations and forced partings until Ernestina’s untimely death in 1988 aged 83.
Rogelia was disciplined in everything she did, spotless to the nth degree and it was this part of her nature that was used to produce a living. She took to washing officers’ clothes and it was probably this act that brought her into contact with her one and only love – her future husband Bernard Steven Denver, NCO Sapper (Royal Engineers).
How they ever got married is beyond my ken. In fact, it was beyond everybody’s ken. Here was a man equal to Rogelia in all her beliefs about life and yet opposite in the way to express them. He hardly uttered a word that was not absolutely necessary. When he did, that soft Scottish accent was listened to with intent as, like Rogelia, everything he said was always just right.
Peacetime life for a soldier in Gibraltar was one of early starts and early finishes. It was this fact that brought them together. Every day Rogelia would take her finished articles of clothing back to the barracks and every day she would pass Sapper Denver reading his book on a bench in Alemeda Gardens – and the bench is still there today.
Well, true love always finds a way of overcoming all obstacles and somehow Sapper Denver started to talk to Rogelia. Even though Rogelia was the most vociferous, I doubt it was the other way around because soldiers, generally speaking, were to be avoided. Anyway, the relationship developed and they were married in 1930 – Rogelia was nearly 20 and Bernard was 25.
Rogelia continued with her washing until the inevitable happened – a move to Blighty was ordered. They moved to married quarters at Borden, Hampshire where the Royal Engineers had their own railway line. This was to be a happy period thoroughly enjoying the long British summers. There were visits to Scotland during this time to see what was fast becoming an impoverished family. Bernard’s father, Dadda as he was called, although an ex-officer, Royal Engineers, and now Clerk of Works for Glasgow Corporation, did not have enough money to live on.
The return to Hampshire from these visits always meant empty pockets. Little did Bernard’s parents realize their support came not from army pay but from Rogelia’s continued washing of officers’ clothes.
It was now the rising of Dictators time and the army did not like the sounds of El Duce. Despite whatever the politicians were saying, the army was preparing in many small ways – just in case. The only common border was the Libyan/Egyptian one and the army needed specialists there to set up defences. So it was that Bernard received orders: move to Egypt. This time no specified period was allocated and Rogelia was not allowed to accompany him for this secret work on the border.
Rogelia, on her own, went back to Gibraltar. As the months went by, her family and friends said, “We told you so – soldiers are all the same”. Nevertheless, Rogelia’s faith held up without wavering. She knew Bernard’s love (like hers) was complete and one day they would be together again. It took one whole year before a letter arrived saying Bernard was being posted to Malta and asking her to leave Gib immediately.
Once in Malta, life once again became as settled as it could be with war clouds gathering. They moved into married quarters in what was the old Admiral’s House in Floriana overlooking Grand Harbour. At the time service families had to leave pets behind if posted elsewhere and one such family had to leave a Maltese terrier named Stupid. However, Stupid was soon adopted by Rogelia and Bernard. This wonderful animal became a much-loved part of the family, especially as Rogelia was having trouble conceiving. Eventually, after an operation she became pregnant but unfortunately lost the child.
Now it was 1939 and Bernard, having started his army life in 1918, had done his enlisted 21 years. It was time to see the CO and say goodbye to the army. The plan was a ship back to Blighty and thence to join two of his brothers in New York. The CO pointed out that war was now inevitable and the Empire would need his services with his specialist knowledge of electrical work, bomb disposal, cabling and the like. In any event there were no ships (because of the war footing) going to Blighty for the foreseeable future. Rogelia was offered a ship to South Africa where she could wait until hostilities ended – she refused outright.
1939 came and went. Italy joined in the war and the bombing of Malta started. Stupid, like most animals, had to be “put down” – a very sad time. The siege began to have more and more effect as each month went by although Italian bombing could be tolerated because much of it missed target. This soon changed once Germany based its Air Force in Sicily. Malta became the key to the whole Nazi war effort. As long as Malta could hit back, no easy route was open for the vital war-winning lubricant of oil. After the huge losses to German troops during the invasion of Crete, Hitler was unsure about doing the same in Malta. Goering came to his rescue and promised to bomb Malta flat. This promise coincided with Rogelia becoming pregnant again. The baby was born in the middle of the nine-month, 24 hours a day bombing in March 1942. She was taken by car during a raid to the hospital. The driver stopped some distance from the hospital and so she walked to her destination with the raid continuing – completely on her own. A normal birth ensued and baby Bernard (myself) was born.
Then three days later when Bernard was visiting his wife and son, and despite a massive red cross painted around the building, there was a direct hit. Rogelia’s bed was now on the edge of what was the ward on the upper floor. She was wrapped in sheets and lowered through the rubble to safety. The baby, rescued by his father, was taken to safety. Some days later an ambulance was taking Rogelia and the baby back from Imtarfa Hospital to Floriana when a raid stopped the ambulance. The driver ran leaving mother and child in an unknown area. Once again Rogelia’s character came to the rescue – no panic, just find a shelter. Luckily an officer saw her plight and showed her the way to a shelter. The officer then went in search of the driver who was never seen again.
Life became harder with many dieing from malnutrition as well as the continuous bombing. On one occasion, Rogelia had had enough and she walked to Valetta Harbour with the baby to see Bernard. She found him at his workshop overlooking the Harbour with the comment, “I’ve had enough of this”. Bernard looked in total astonishment at them and quietly said, “Look around you woman”. Stacked all around them were unexploded bombs. He continued, “Just one bomb here and we all go up”. Rogelia went home and never let it get to her again.
The old Admiral’s House was flattened with two precious items still in it – one was chocolate bars given by submariners to keep the child alive and the other was nappies, now flying on a washing line where the flat roof had once been. Bernard retrieved both and the day was saved. The island was on the point of surrender when at last vital parts of a convoy got through. The siege was lifted.
A move to officer’s quarters in Sliema proved a good one until the American Officer’s Mess moved next door. The noise was terrible. This caused drastic action from Rogelia and quieter times were had by all. It was at this time that she met Churchill and the King on their visit to the island.
The army promised the family a move to South Africa until the end of the hostilities. One day Bernard came home, packed his kitbag and was ordered onto a troop ship bound for Blighty. Later in life he became very bitter about having to swallow this pill. The only outward sign the army knew was when he refused to be put down below decks onboard the ship.
Rogelia and her son were alone. All the friends were either dead or moved away to places unknown. One day she was offered a ship back to Blighty. Everything was packed into one box and two suitcases. The ship was an empty oil tanker with wooden bunks made in the dry hold around the bridge area. The convoy took six weeks zig-zagging through the Med and Atlantic to get to Liverpool. The journey was not without incident in that U-Boats were still active and the many Maltese ladies on board, who had married British troops, caused panic situations on a regular basis. They, it seemed, could see the U-Boats attacking us all the time. Of course, Rogelia put them in their place, although it only worked for a while.
Bernard’s only home was Scotland and since Dadda’s death before the war, his mother had moved into a Corporation flat situated in Knightswood, Glasgow. It was to this two-bedroomed flat that Rogelia and son were heading after landing in Liverpool. This rather straight-forward journey was not what it should have been. After the massive traumatic events of Malta, another reality soon hit Rogelia. Nobody was going to help her – our brave troops used their money to ensure taxi drivers took them first from Liverpool Docks to whatever destination. Eventually, a kindly taxi driver delivered the family to the correct railway station. Once the Glasgow train arrived, problems again ensued. The troops yet again refused to help or give room on the overcrowded train. It was soon apparent that here on relatively safe home soil and without an officer in sight, our brave warriors showed their true worth. Eventually a space was found in the corridor and so Rogelia and son arrived in Glasgow where she was left yet again without any way of getting to her destination. It is at times like this that a Good Samaritan often appears out of the blue. Somebody saw them sitting on the two suitcases and somehow organized a car.
The new home proved to be a safe, stable base (with only minor problems) to live in. Rogelia soon established good relations with the locals and what could be called a normal life ensued. Meanwhile,
Bernard was preparing for D-Day. He was on the Isle of Wight working on one of the war’s greatest secrets: Pipeline Under the Ocean - or PLUTO as it was known. It was only in 2004 that the details of this action were released to the public. In June 1944 Bernard was given leave just before D-Day. This brief leave resulted in Rogelia becoming pregnant once again and in March 1945 David was born.
From June 1944 to March 1945, Bernard was on the front line. After landing at Port en Bessin (between British and American landing zones) he was laying fuel pipes through France. In late March 1945 he was given compassionate leave to see his new-born son. After that it was back to the war and the front line and (on at least one occasion) in front of the front line, strange as it may seem, working almost side-by-side with German Sappers who were clearing up after their army whilst our Sappers were laying the fuel lines. Neither side wanted to know what the other was doing and so the secret work remained just that. Bernard’s war continued through Belgium and Holland with many near misses – especially in Belgium where some V2s were used on certain cities. On one occasion he witnessed the completely silent disappearance of a crossroads with traffic, a controlling policeman and many buildings. It was only after a few seconds when the immense noise of the V2 came that the realization dawned on him.
As we all know, VE Day came in May 1945 and Bernard, having served 27 unblemished years, was sent home to his family. At last, Rogelia was to have all her most cherished possessions around her – her own family. Bernard started a career with the GPO – he served as a telephone engineer until retirement.
It was obvious that the family could not stay forever in Mother’s two-bedroomed flat. It also became obvious that the two sons were not very healthy – whether or not because of the war’s traumatic events, nobody was sure. In any event, the doctor’s advice was to go south – as far south as possible. The better weather would help to make the children stronger.
This advice brought about a joyous reunion because during the war Rogelia’s beloved sister, Ernestina, with her own family was evacuated to Coulsdon, Surrey. Gibraltar’s mental patients were sent to Cane Hill Hospital in Coulsdon and, along with them came the nurses. One of these nurses was Ernestina’s husband and in Coulsdon they remained. Two trips from Glasgow with all the family showed Rogelia that Surrey would be ideal. Ernestina was renting a small house and in 1948 the Denver family joined them.
This started the happiest period of Rogelia’s life. Four more moves took place – all in Surrey, before her death. The family unit was very strong – Rogelia continued in the same vein, always fighting for what she believed to be the right way, which it usually was. She continued working as a cleaner through to her 70’s. It was simply amazing to watch her in her 70’s going to clean houses in Chipstead, Surrey, walking every morning through narrow lanes with no footpath and modern traffic passing inches from her tiny body.
Rogelia maintained some very close friendships right to the very end and particular thanks should go to her neighbour, Mrs Palmer, for always being so close. Of course, as already said, Ernestina and Rogelia were always together – what more can be said.
Eventually, old age took hold and her one true love Bernard died on 15th March 1991. For anybody other than a strong woman, this would have summoned the end. Not Rogelia – she still had her boys and by now the grandchildren had grown up and, of course, there were the great-grandchildren to watch over. Her loyalty to family was paramount in her life. Even if she did not see the family as often as she would have liked, she always kept up to date with what was happening to them.
There is not a soul on this planet who after meeting her will ever forget this extraordinary person. The last days of her life were spent in the care of a home and two hospitals. Every member of staff in these institutions have said, without knowing her past, what an exceptional person she was. I know she is saying thank you to all of you, once again.
In another time, Rogelia would have been a world leader without doubt. In her world she achieved just that – this world is now poorer without her. However, her riches deposited in us will go on for generations. We will never forget you. God bless and keep you until we meet again.
Bernard J Denver
A few more details about Malta: Extracts from James Holland’s book, Fortress Malta (2003).
21st March 1942 (three days after the child’s birth).
‘Bombs had also been dropped on the hospital, both in the morning and afternoon. Two people were killed and three seriously wounded. Two sections of the hospital were badly damaged ‘A’ and ‘H’ Block.’
‘Malta’s suffering at the hands of the Nazis is a story of tears and loss. But James Holland is a mastercraftsman. Fortress Malta is both compelling and heartwrenching. His account of the siege leavens devastation with hope, despair with courage; and, most important of all, celebrates the humanity of individuals against the forces of evil.’ Amanda Foreman
‘Superbly engaging history … The sea and air battles around the island are also vividly depicted, but the real value of this book lies in its rare, intimate description of the Maltese perspective on the siege. Turning the last page, one understands why the island of Malta was collectively awarded the George Cross, the highest British civilian award for heroism.’ Publishers Weekly
‘James Holland has put together a detailed and humane account of human endurance and resolve. Told through the voices of those who were there, we learn about their everyday lives … It is all told with a warmth and general affection that truly brings the people and those extraordinary times alive for the reader’. Waterstone’s Books Quarterly
‘Holland … wins full marks for accuracy and for his effortless prose, following the story by using survivors’ testimony as well as the letters and diaries of those who perished … Fortress Malta is a tribute to the fighting services and the Maltese civilians whose fortitude and courage helped to turn the course of the war in the Mediterranean and North Africa and enabled freedom to triumph.’ Christopher Scicluna, The Times (Malta)
‘A loving, enthusiastic account that focuses on the first-hand stories of combatants and civilians, setting them in the context of the battle being played out across the Mediterranean. He steers clear of politics and concentrates on the breadth of personalities, on the hopes and fears of the extraordinary, ordinary people caught up in the longest siege in British history. Will Cohu, Daily Telegraph
‘Fortress Malta turns out to be an excellent example of an almost abandoned form – steadily patriotic narrative history, balanced and fair … Holland not only pays tribute to the skill of the German pilots who made Malta, at the height of its siege, the most bombed place on earth; more unusually, he illustrates how important was the contribution of the Italian air and naval forces to the Axis effort on the Mediterranean … James Holland was given a grand old tale to tell – beyond carp, beyond attire, beyond revisionism.’ Jan Morris, New Statesman
‘In this full and well-researched book the reader is told one fact that embodies the horror of the island’s siege: more bombs fell on Malta in March and April 1942 than fell on London throughout the entire Blitz … Mr Holland has made extensive use of interviews and archives at the PRO and the Imperial War Museum, along with other museums and personal manuscripts, to give the fullest account yet of the siege. By concentrating on individuals and their stories he has made this not just the story of an island but of the individuals who lived, fought and died there.’ Contemporary Review
‘Iwo Jima stands as the most bombed spot in the Pacific War. Malta stands as the most bombed spot in history. James Holland brings alive this harrowing and heroic World War II story through the eyes of those who struggled and won. Journey back to a time when, as FDR said, “Malta stood alone but unafraid in the centre of the sea”.’ James Bradley, author of Flags of Our Fathers and Flyboys.