Edward Steadman

Algemene Begraafplaats Sittard Graf A.16

Registratienummer : 5959719

Rang :                            Private

Regiment :                   The Queen’s Royal Regiment (West Surrey)


Leeftijd :                       38 jaar

Datum sneuvelen :   08 dec 1944

Zoon van :                    Joseph and Sarah Steadman

Gehuwd met :            Grace E. Steadman uit Chatteris, Cambridgeshire

Overige informatie

Als geboren en getogen Londenaar (1906) was hij met vrouw en 4 kinderen woonachtig en werkzaam in Chatteris, Cambridgeshire.

Als soldaat nam hij deel aan D-Day. Hij ontsnapte daarbij 2 maal aan de dood, tot hij onfortuinlijk sneuvelde op 8 december 1944, 38 jaar oud, in de buurt van Sittard.

 In 2014 hebben twee kinderen van Edward Steadman en hun partners, alle rond de 80 jaar, op uitnodiging van het Oorlogsgravencomité het graf van hun (schoon)vader bezocht.

Some notes made by his son Gerald

Dad was born in London, a true cockney born within the sound of Bow Bells (that is a district in London).

As a young man Dad was in a band in London where he played the ukelele/bango.
Dad moved to Chatteris to work in the position of clerk at the local gas works. I am not sure of the date but we lived at 8 Alma Terrace when I was born in 1935.

He later worked at the foundry where heavy machinery was made and was involved with design and building of a small dockside crane. (I actually saw one of these cranes on a visit to the Isle of Wight).
Dad transferred to a job at Duxford airfield, the family all moved with him, from there he was called up to serve in the army.

My last memory of him was saying goodbye on Bedford railway station. 

Dad went over to France on D. Day, but his landing barge was blown up so he had to swim ashore, and noted on a postcard he had to dry his tobacco on a rock.

Later he was seconded to a intelligence officer as a driver, he was once again lucky to survive when the jeep ran over a landmine and was blown up.

Nothing much more is know until he was reported as killed in action in the Sittard area. 

Many years later my elder brother, by chance met Dad’s old officer and was told the true story of how Dad died, whilst sleeping in a tent at the side of the road the tent was run over by a tank, which was thought to be an American tank.  
Amongst Dads belongings that were sent home were a number of broken watches and spare parts.  Dad always enjoyed repairing watches before he went to war.