1940-05-18 — Page 12

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May 18, 1940.

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My Dear Galmothe

I

་་ ་

TAKE up my pen, though

It's not a very hardy one, to write and thank you from the crew and myself for the .parcels.

They all came sofply to hand, the cakes and the cigarettes and the long stockings are just fine, and the wee mitiens and the woollen helmets are fine, loo, and the sweets.

I haven't sucked i stick of burley this forty-years and they sugar taste fine, I haven't had a god- mother this forty-years either i you wrote from London to say you

INTERCEPTED LETTER BY

BARTIMEUS

had adopted us. I wasTMnover in London,

Well, you'll be about the age of my daughter, no doubt, but I'm proud to have you for a godmother, for there's not many men of my age have such a thing."

ॐ

YOU write and ask me to tell you what we are doing all day. Th tell you. Just sweeping for mines. We And the way we do it in this. have a float on a wire and a kite that keeps the foot out on quarter and a weight on the wire to keep it well down near the bot tom,

our

AN AIR-MAIL LETTER

FROM

ENGLAND

By KATHLEEN GREENE, O.B.E.

London, May 1. I AM writing to you from Small- Smalltown in town. Every Britain is, to its inhabitants, one of the key positions of the Home Front.

If a parachute were to drop you to-day in the Sinalltown that you remember best, I expect you would As find it very much like this one. you walked along the streets you would see that almost every house had some notice at its door:- "A.R.F." "Hospital Supply Depot": "Warden's Post"; "AR.P." again. in A.R.P. (we practise economy words!) means, of course, Air Raid Precautions. In the eighth month of war we feel that it means also "All Ready; Prepared".

The stiffening element in A.R.P. is given by the officer pensioners of Navy, Army, Air Force and home and overseas civil services; too old to go back to their former work, alled with energy that in normal times would spend itsel: on local administration, and the golf links.

•

Sus

Warden is a house painter, pected-of-using-a-ladder-on-his Inspection rounds.

We steam along then ill the wire catches in the mooring of a mine and it cuts it. Then up comes the

mine to the surface and we have a bit of fun sinking it with the Lewis gun and rifies,

I'm no so handy with the riffe myself, but my gunner he's an old Navy man. Retired, of course, but a right proper Deadshot Dick with that gun of his,

Did you ever read a book called "Deadshot Dick," missio? I mind reading it when I was a lad. That and the "Pilgrim's Progress," an- other fine book.

WHILES It's cold, of course. But I've shed these waters and off Iceland and the Faroes for thirty years; times you couldn' touch a bit of iron or the flesh. stuck to it with the cold: And no Jassie sent us barley sugar in those days. Saltwater sores we got, but no barley sugar.

But I was telling you about the mines. There's two kinds, the moured and the magnetic, and they alt on the bottom till you pass over them and then up they go. So we tow a magnet between two traw- lers and hope that will pass over the mine instead of the Laughing Water,

come

The other klad-the ones that the to the surface when sweep wire trouble

euts their mooring→ have horns. And if you bump öne of these horns, you go,

So when we are shooting at them to sink them we don't go too near In case the bullet strikes a horn and the mine explodes. I've known It happen, and we got a nice lot of fish stunned by the explosion.

Go down the streets of Small- town now and you'll see never a gilmmer. We've paid a big price for our darkness. Some cars must be about the ronds at night; 50 must some people. The happens when they meet.

"Summer time" with snow on the But ground was rather a mockery, that hour of daylight at the end Instead of the beginning of the day is bringing down the accident rate. Are you old enough to remember the fuss people made about ulter- ing the hands of the clock when Willett's New Time was Arst mode law in the last war?

*

OUTSIDE the network of A.R.P. are the Home Defences. Up and down the whole country, on wind- swept moors and downs, in water- logged meadows, at the edges of cliffs, are the men of the Anti-Air- craft Command. The six months that we have spent in Smalltown, learning First Aid and looking al- ter other people's-children-have been spent by these men on duty, Day after day, night after night, they have been watching, listening,

IN that remote period "before the Munich crisis" the organisation was a bit ragged. Eighteen months of intensive work, the last six. months done by the light of blazing towns in Europe has pulled-us-all-walling for the enemy that few of together.

For we are all in it in some cupacity-ns wardens, ambulance drivers,

Grst members of

ald If parties, Bremen...... we are too old for active work we can house a Are pump in the wood shed, or pro- mise to comfort the Neighbour's dog, if Mr. and Mrs. Neighbour should be called out, one to his gas decontamination squad, the other to drive sitting cases to hospital in her car. Mrs. Neighbour will, think, be bitterly disappointed no night alarm gives her a chance of wearing the "sisen suit" that lies. beside her bed, and that con, ac- cording to the maker's promise, be put on in one movement to the sound of the warning hooter.

its Each A.R.P. District has

Headquarters, housed Control

hali. generally in some public Here a watch is kept by Air Raid Wardens all through the twenty four hours. The telephones, by which news of a tald is received and spread, are continually mann- ed.

аге

龠

IN actual fact these telephones generally "womenned". A brilliant moon took me for a walk nine the other night before the o'clock news on the radio. Mrs. Pleasant both her sons are follow- ing the trade of their father who was killed at Jutland-was com- ing down the street, with thermos flask and knitting, on her way to her weekly night on duty at the telephone.

"Who'd have belloved" she said, "that a Granny like me could help to win a war by spending a night with Colonel Oldsoldier-and the girl from Slipper's Library to make It respectablet-In the Conservative Men's Club?"

the

Pollee and Air Raid Wardens are responsible for enforcing "black-out". An unexpected door bell after dark sels the house- holder's conscience jumpingt Our

them have so far seen.

can

men-were

The weather has been the great secret of the war. It can be whis- that it has been the pored now worst weather than anyone living In the remember, Gales autumn, when the flimsy tents that lodged the Anti Aircraft blown right off the ground. Tem- peratures below zero. Snow deep that no one could get into or the last out of the camps, where

n way crumb had beer eaten before could be dug for the next rations to come through.

THE little huts that replaced the tents are not luxurious. In a space of less than twenty four feet the teo men of a post have to sleep An oil Ecar. eat, keep all thelr

oli #love gives them, warmth; an lantern light. The nearest human habitation may be miles

To many town bred Leave is rare. men the loneliness and silence of the country makes their lives as strange as if they were living in the Sahara.

away.

By day the litio camps are hid- den, huts, men and guna merging Into the heather or the grass. By night their searchlights can fill the sky till it looks like a medieval painter's vision of the Last Day. From a ridge of high ground above Smalltown, thirty

forty fifty beams can be seen at once, sweeping round the horizon, rush- ing up the sky, like a circle of gi gantic hoses spraying the stars with milk. Then, as a switch has been turned, they vanish. Smalltown people go home with the comforta- ble feeling that they are ringed round with guardian eyes.

ONE enemy has crept in upon us this Spring.

"Is it really, German mension", naked one small casualty, looking with interest at his own spotted tummy, but, Mummy, how did Hit- ler get it hero?"

One day we were astern of an- other trawler sweeping ahead of us, and her sweep wire cut a

mine mooring very near through but not quite. There was, maybe, បារាំង. strand that didn't part for a few seconds. And then it parted and up she came like the homed beast that you'll have read about in the Scriptures, right in our path.

☆

IT was so close I dare not alter the helm, for it would have swung us round into her. I just did nothing, and I sald to myself, "An- gus, lad, this is the end," and I heard her bump long against the bows but by the mercy of Proviz : dence we didn't touch a horn, and I gave

the

ship a

a wee bit of helm to swing the stern away, and we cleared it and wo breathed deep.

I had all hands up with the rifles, and 道

said,

"Now, lads, for a bit of fancy shooting." I was mad with that mine, It was bobbing about on top of the waves and we settled down to sink it before dark.

the deyil himself was in mine, missle, excuse me for mentioning it But oven Dead- shot Dick couldn't sinir it, and the cook put a bullet through the gun- wale of the dinghy. So I clouted his head and sent him back to the galley, and I sald to Dick, the gun- ner, "Let me have that Lewis gun."

Well,

that

IT was getting dusk and I wanted to get back to the base. Well, I was filled with righteous anger against, that mine and I sent half a tray of bullets into it while it was on top of a wave.

I've never hit a haystack before or since. We watched it sink and disappear, and I said the sword of the Lord and Gideon, and I told Dick to take the gun away and clean it.

I'll be turning in now, misa. Your obedient servant,

Angus McNeil

SKIPPER, R.N.R.

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