At first sight, there’s nothing unusual about this small grouping. It was found as it is, with the anti-gas eyeshields and anti-dimming tin tucked into the bag, which is nice. The respirator itself isn’t in the best shape. The hose is rigid and no longer pliable, and the rubber of the facepiece is starting to go. The canister is also in awful shape, so much so that I’ve duct-taped it as an emergency precaution against lung cancer.
The bag is a good one. No oxidisation or missing pieces, with the fastening string and rivet still in place. Owner’s name inside the flap, as to be expected. But there’s more to it than that. Something that is, potentially, rather exciting. On the back of the bag, on the outside, is another name and service number. As you can see from the photos I’ve provided, it seemed that this respirator, or at the very least the bag, belonged to someone of rather high esteem.

The name, ‘Bdr Brown,’ and a service number which I believe to be ‘23462921.’

I did my research, and it appears that there was a gentleman by the name of Alan Ward Brown, with the rank of Brigadier. He was a British Army tank officer, attached to the 79th Armoured Division until 1943, when he became Commanding Officer of the 147th Battalion Royal Armoured Corps. He served in France following D-Day, and until April 1945 was the Commanding Officer of the 3rd Battalion Royal Tank Regiment.
He was awarded the Distinguished Service Order in February 1945.

I’ve been unable to trace the service number, but I really find it hard to believe that this is a simple coincidence. It’s possible, of course. But his respirator would have to be out there somewhere, assuming it has survived the intervening years. I’ll probably turn out to be disappointed, as ever. But the very idea of holding something of such historical significance is quite a feeling.

Regards, B.B.