Volume 2
No longer Alone - December 2007
I Uncertainty, unpredictability and volatility were the order of the day - more chaos and more confusion for a young mind to take in.
It was a time when Mussolini joined Hitler, when some of my friends and relations became enemy aliens overnight, and then a few years thereafter they strung Mussolini and his mistress upside down. It was a time when Russia and Germany signed a non-aggression pact but, before the period ran out, Germany invaded Russia. It was a time when Japan attacked America at Pearl Harbour and America, at last, joined the war on our side.
My eldest brother was home on a short leave from the army just when they, (our new allies), both became involved. I was surprised at him looking so serious and can vividly recall a conversation he was having with my mother when she was preparing a meal in the kitchen. She was saying, “I am so very sorry, son. We will all miss him greatly. Now that America has joined in we can only hope this dreadful war will end soon.”
It was later that day that I was told that my mother was referring to the third one of his lifelong friends who had just been killed in action. I can see him now, turning slowly to my mother with a slight shake of his head saying, "Yes mum, of course I'm pleased that they are now involved but, forgive my cynicism, they had no choice. But why did the United States wait so long? I will tell you why. They will come out of this war, as they did in your war, as a stronger and wealthier nation. There has been much blood spilt and much more to come before the end and I have lost too many close friends, and have no enthusiasm left for this catastrophic mess. I apologise for not sharing your feelings of hope. There is a long way to go yet.”
I was sorry to see my big brother looking so solemn. That was Christmas 1941 and the last time I saw him in his khaki tunic. I was to see him 18 months later wearing the light blue jacket of the invalid soldier.
It might not have been the most fashionable thing to say but he had a point. When Britain and the Commonwealth stood all alone against the Nazi machine in 1939, America seemed quite prepared to let us bleed for a while, notwithstanding the fact that theirs was the country that had, by far, the greatest concentration of first and second-generation immigrants from the countries of Europe that we were trying to save. They also had a very strong Jewish population but it would appear that the German lobby carried more weight.
Roosevelt, when stating that the Japan’s undeclared war at Pearl Harbour was the most infamous act in history was understandably somewhat hypocritical. He had seemingly no trouble with his conscience when the Nazis were waging undeclared war throughout Europe.
My brother had a point. Our brave new allies had no choice. Germany invaded Russia and it was Germany that declared war on America not the other way round. And he was right; America came out in 1945, a much stronger nation than when they went in late 1941, as events turned out.
As for Russia, Roosevelt would not listen to Winston Churchill's warnings and sided with Uncle Joe Stalin, historically if anything, more monstrous even than Hitler and his crowd.
There is no doubt that we badly needed our new allies. There is no doubt that they both made great sacrifices; fighting bravely, and there is no doubt that we could not have won the war without them - or the peace in Europe thereafter without America's strength, help and generosity. But, heaven help us, if we have to look to Hollywood for a record of times past.
As is always thus, each country writes history, as it wants its population to see it. It takes a century or more to get nearer to the truth; to be far enough removed to see things in context. So, in the meantime, I will leave it to the factual historian and move on. I apologise for this aside and go back 18 months or so to continue my story.
We were on the move again and were to be sent to Port Bannatyne, a village close to Rothesay on the Isle of Bute. A train took us from Central Station, Glasgow to Wemyss Bay, the steamer across the Firth of Clyde to Rothesay, then a short trip round the bay and we had arrived at our new home. Why there? I cannot say, but in one respect, I remember it more as a wartime holiday house. I have visions of a lot of comings and goings between Glasgow and Bute.
While this was but a short calendar period it occupied a large part of my childhood memories. I think I got my best education here, firstly in the one-room village school, with a blackboard on each one of the four walls, and the one teacher simultaneously teaching the four classes. I then moved on to the big school, Rothesay Academy. Viewed in retrospect the teaching was of a high standard and made a big impact on me but as fate would have it, short-lived. In fact, it was only about an 18-month period before returning to the big city.
It was during one of my visits home that my sister, the youngest of the five girls, decided on an impulse to sign up for the army without telling anyone. She always acted spontaneously and swiftly - any afterthoughts could be left to take care of them selves. For instance, I remember one evening, a few years earlier, when both my parents were out, she decided quite instantaneously and independently to make toffee as a surprise and used up all the family's ration of sugar and butter. On hearing their return, she realised what she had done panicked and tried to flush the sizzling mixture down the WC; only to see it solidify and stick to the bottom! She got away with it; her natural warmth, kindness and being genuinely eager to please saved her once again.
After the war she married her boyfriend. He had been a bomber pilot in the RAF, shot down over Europe and escaped back home to fly again. They moved to Canada and their life there was filled for many years with great successes and luxury. However, fate can be very cruel at times and she has had her share of tragedies, yet her indomitable spirit, enthusiasm and tenacity for life is still there. She is a remarkable person.
I must not be sidetracked, so, returning to my story, as I said, it was decided that the youngest family members should once again get out of the city. So it was that our little family of five turned up one winter's night at the house in Port Bannatyne, cold, hungry and tired. You can imagine my surprise, when looking out from my bedroom window the next morning, to see in the bay, a large grey warship, which turned out to be HMS Cyclops, the Royal Navy's submarine depot ship. I was thrilled! Not quite in a war zone but it did add exhilaration to my excitement in being involved, as I saw it, once again in the hostilities.
So here we were again my eldest sister, her two children, my brother and I, destined to sit out part of the war in Port Bannatyne, or so we thought.
It was roundabout then, during one of my very many visits home that I met up again with my Royal Naval Lieutenant hero. Apparently he had not been around for about nine months and I was, at first, taken aback to see him, not in uniform but, wearing a rather smart suit. This was surprising bearing in mind that, at that time, clothing coupons were at a premium. However, it quickly became clear to me; it did not take me long to sort it out, it was obvious, he would receive a special allocation of coupons from the Admiralty for plain-clothes duty.
He had lost a lot of weight, there was little colour in his complexion and he seemed to have developed a nervous tick. It came to me in a flash; of course, for the last nine months he had been engaged in undercover work behind enemy lines. He was like a coiled spring, starting up whenever there was a knock on the door. But, as time moved on his confidence gradually returned and he would relax but, even yet, would not discuss in detail recent events. He alluded to it in a dismissive fashion.
It was then that we agreed that he return with me to Bute the next day, or as he put it, “Whilst in the area I have a little task to do for the Admiralty.”
Our plans were laid. We would take the train to Wemyss Bay and the steamer across to Bute, but we would not acknowledge each other unless he used a password - he would ask me the time of day. So, if strolling the decks to get his sea legs back, or if on the bridge talking to the Captain, I was not to acknowledge him unless he gave the password. That was fine but I remembered too late that I did not own a watch! However, we managed to complete the sea crossing undetected.
When we arrived at the other end, this brave man solemnly shook hands with me, man to man, or rather, man to a 13 year old boy; wishing each other good luck. Little did I know that would be the last I would see of him. I had no reason to doubt him when he said he would see me in Port Bannatyne some time later. I was quite confident that he would complete his mission, which was probably to expose the German, the spy on HMS Cyclops, who was presently planning to lower the boom across the Firth of Clyde to allow the U-boats into create havoc on our shipping lanes.
There is no doubt if James Bond had been around, my friend could have been him. And there is no doubt I could have taken Danny Kay's part in the role in the film, The Lives of Walter Mitty. IT was some months afterwards when the police turned up at our house in Glasgow looking for him. They said he had served a nine-month sentence in jail but had broken his parole. He had never been in the Navy, but he had been a junior officer in the Salvation Army and had a conviction for dealing and selling their band’s instruments.
I had a secret hope that, if true, they would never catch him. After all it takes a very special and brave person to masquerade as a Royal Naval officer in wartime.
Come to think of it, where does the truth lie? Were the police giving him a new cover? We now have enough evidence to show that in America the CIA doesn’t always know what the FBI is up to. In Russia the KGB never knew what the KGB was up to and in Britain, deeply embedded in our Secret Service, were the Russian agents Burgess, Philby and McLean, not to mention Blunt a Knight of the Realm and curator of the Queen's art treasures. In any event the year 1943 was coming to a close. Italy had come out of the war, the Germans were beginning to be pushed back into Europe and out of Russia, and the Japanese were, at last, on retreat.
I came home for Christmas, to bring in the New Year in, in 1944, in Glasgow. I will miss Bute; I had a good war there. I learnt to row a boat, I learnt to milk a cow and I learnt that boys and girls were different.
Posted 28th December 2007 No longer Alone.